Streetwalker
by Greened Ink
Summary: Not everyone walking the streets is a whore, and not everyone off of them is a saint. AU Maura/Jane pairing, I suppose.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter One:

It was late in the year for Boston City and bitterly cold outside. Late-afternoon sunlight brought with it no warmth, not even melting the frost swirling on the streets where traffic rumbled noisily. Noise that wasn't quite muffled by any level of building or thickness of brick.

Maura Isles let out a small moan as she awoke to it, not wanting to stir, but her alarm adding it's voice to the air, was insistent. Eyes still gummy with sleep, hands mussing up her caramel waves of hair in an attempt to push away sleep, she rolled over in bed. With one clumsy hand, she reached out for the bedside clock that was emitting such a horrid dissonance into the air where her head pounded. Instead, she ran into the wine glass beside it, knocking the thing over.

Shoving the silk sheets aside, she cursed, grabbing up the glass before absolutely everything could spill. Sitting the vessel upright, she shook the wine off her fingers and hit the alarm with the back of her wrist to shut the stupid thing up.

She was up.

Shaking her head, she sighed. A perfect start to a perfect day.

Her bare legs and feet froze as she slipped to the floor and padded to the washroom in order to retrieve a towel. She didn't want the liquid to have time to soak. After cleaning up the mess, crouching to get the stuff that had dripped to the wood floor, Maura got up to get ready, tossing the hand towel as she went. It took her an hour to shower, slip into matching underwear and a tight, form-fitting gray dress. One that let others see just a tease of her thighs and that cut low at her back. Her application of make-up made her eyes look smokey, her hair up in a braided french twist framed by several wisps so her graceful neck was exposed. She pulled a wrap across her exposed spine, draping it over her elbows and grabbed her clutch. Looking herself over in the mirror, she nodded once, satisfied.

Leaving the bathroom, she hopped a little as she pulled on her high heels, glancing at the clock. There wasn't time for her to eat, not now. She hurried through the hall to the front door, pausing only long enough to pull on her form-fitting ankle length coat. Once again leaving her single bedroom, high-rise apartment hungry. It didn't take her long to hail a cab and give the address to her destination.

-o-

It lit up the advancing dusk like a torch. The hotel was one of the nicest in Boston, with several stories, a footman at the door, and plush furnishings inside that were largely imported. To some of the residents, the building could be intimidating. Luckily, Maura knew places like this better than she knew her own apartment. She had spent most of her childhood growing up in one or another too.

So as she stepped out of the cab delicately, she merely nodded to the footman, who knew her on sight and held the door open for her with a nod. Her eyes surveyed the crowd as her steps took her straight into the hotel bar without preamble.

There was an old man sitting at one of the tables, reading a newspaper. A woman in her fifties was having a one-sided discussion with the bartender and the young worker in turn was nodding politely while he cleaned. A group of Asian men were arguing about something in loud voices, but she didn't bother trying to pick out what they were saying with her rusty knowledge of the language, though she did make a note to brush up on it at some point in the near future. A couple, maybe in their thirties, were trying to ignore each other in one corner.

Bypassing them all, Maura went to the bar and tapped the wood. "One, Paul." Removing her coat, she draped it over her chair and sat.

The bartender smiled to see her again and filled her up a glass of wine, passing it over in front of her on a clothe napkin.

She took it and sipped at it, closing her eyes as it dulled the slight headache that had been slowly growing in her skull since waking. There was nothing better for a hang-over than more wine.

A small smiled tilted her lips.

Setting down the glass, she straightened the wrap on her elbows and then settled down to wait.

Fortunately, it didn't take long.

The phone behind the bar rang and Paul picked it up, putting it to his ear and readying paper and pen. "Got it." He said after a moment of listening and scratching.

"Well?" She asked as he hung up.

He tore the single page off the pad and slid it over to her.

Giving him a grateful little smile, she took the paper, another deeper swallow of wine, and headed with her coat over one arm for the exit into the lobby. From there, she took an elevator up five floors and walked the hall till she came to one-five-one-eight. The corresponding number to the one in her hand, scrawled on the paper.

Without knocking, she put her hand on the latch and opened the door. Her heart fluttered, as it always did at this moment, but she knew better than to let it show. She swayed into the room like she owned it, setting her coat and clutch onto the dresser. Drawing the wrap around her shoulders, careful to make it cover her back, she took the few steps to the window and looked out on the city below.

It had begun to snow.

"Mary?"

Hearing the name, she tilted her head to look behind her and found a handsome, but slightly overweight man grinning at her nervously from the bathroom door.

In one glance, she took him in, raising one sultry eyebrow.

The man's forehead was slightly damp with perspiration, so he was nervous. He had a tick near his right eye and he kept his eyes in motion, particularly sliding them up her exposed legs, so he was clearly a skin man. He was also obviously new to this, if not the act, at least the setup. He would need a little care and attention.

She merely smiled, keeping her mouth shut. Silence was sometimes the greatest weapon she could wield and some men didn't like a lot of chatter. Turning back to the window, she let the wrap drop from one of her shoulders as though by accident.

It was more feeling than hearing, the way his breath caught. All the air in the room seemed to go still.

Keeping back a smirk, she waited patiently.

After a few starts and stops, he finally came to her, reaching a hand out to drag it down her smooth skin. He drew even closer to put his nose in her hair, breathing deep before murmuring that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

She raised her hands up over her head, placing her palms on the glass and told him to unzip her.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Don't go getting too excited. I don't usually post this often. However, I already had this done, so enjoy. :)

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Two:

"Rizzoli!"

Jane faced forward, coming to attention as though the assignments being given out to everyone else was something she had been listening to the whole time when really her attention had trailed away some time ago. "Sir?"

All eyes had turned on her and someone in the assembled officers snickered.

She tried not to blush and kept her eyes straight forward.

"You're on special assignment tonight." Sergeant Palten commanded. He gestured out of the glass walls toward the other side of the bullpen, where an ominous door stood baring entry to the great beyond. The unreachable, intimidating future she was clutching at. "See the Lieutenant."

Her heart skipped a little. "Yes, sir."

The sergeant calling out the assignments turned his attention elsewhere, for which Jane was very grateful. His gaze could bore a hole in asphalt; her ass didn't have a chance. While the man wasn't watching, up front, Crowe turned slightly and made an obscene gesture to his buddy. She wadded up a paper and hucked it at his face, hitting him square in his right eye. He flipped her off and she made a silent show of being wounded. He turned away from her, shaking his head.

Just then, Frost leaned in from behind and grabbed her attention again by talking low near her ear. "Special assignment. What the hell's that all about?"

She shrugged, not sure. Having been with Vice long enough now to know you went wherever the hell you were told, she didn't put much thought into it. Besides, anything that got her out of those god-awful heels and too tight miniskirts was alright with her.

Frost looked lost.

She shook her head. Newb.

He was practically a kid, one who'd only been working with Vice for a few months, but he was smart as hell and knew his way around computers. They had more in common than they had differences, so naturally, he was her best friend here.

"Let you know."

Assignments given, the meeting was dismissed and she slapped him on the back as she got up and left the room ahead of the others. Moving toward the Lieutenant's door. She lifted her fist and knocked. Not too loud, not too soft. She didn't want to appear timid.

"Come!" Was yelled through, so she did.

The office was dimly lit, a single window silhouetting the shape of the boss at his desk. "Rizzoli. Good. Have a seat."

"Uh." Jane sat. "Have- have I done something wrong sir? My performance-"

"Is not in question, officer, so you can relax." He said over her, shifting files on his desk. "In fact, the fact that your performance isn't in question is one of the reason's you're here."

She stayed silent. Waiting for the real reasoning to come to the fore.

"I've got an assignment for you." He lifted a file and held it up so he could look at it, perching his reading glasses on his nose. "We've got a situation going on. Pro ring run by faceless bastards no one has been able to get a handle on as of yet. High class call girls to high class clients."

"Hardest ring to crack sir."

"Tell me about it." He grunted in agreement. "Give me a guy that actually calls himself a pimp any day over some rich prick who says he's providing a service. Or some rich woman. That's just it though. We don't even know who we might be looking for. We need to get a handle on this. Get someone undercover in the organization." He looked her in the eye. "Frankly, Rizzoli, you got the looks to pull it off, so I'm ready to give you a chance."

"A solo run?" Jane tried not to let the sudden exhilaration licking against her throat show in her voice.

"Not quite. You'll have a tech monitoring you on the outside-"

"Frost."

He seemed startled by her abrupt suggestion.

"I know he's new, but he's got talent. He's the only one I'd trust to have my back." In that moment, she questioned her sanity, but it was nothing but the truth. She'd seen him work.

The Lieutenant eyed her critically, but after a long moment, shrugged. "Suit yourself. You'll also be working closely with a guy from homicide, Sergeant Korsak. He'll be your source, so listen to what he has to say, let him lead you. He's got a connection in the community. Caught the killer of some young girl up from the South. Managed to make an inroad with the witness." He handed the file over to her, but as her hand closed around it, he didn't let go. "You're gonna be going after guys with a lot of money and power. You'll need to keep your head on straight. Korsak will be the only one around ready to pull your ass out of the fire. Can you handle that?"

She swallowed. "Yes. I can."

He grunted again. "Hope so. You manage to pull this off, you may just get that promotion you've been wanting."

Her heart hammered. She really hoped he meant that. "I won't let you down."

"Just don't get yourself killed or fucked up, Rizzoli. I'm not putting you out there to lose one of my best guys."

"Got it, sir." She nodded and left the office. For a long second, she stood on the other side of that door, just trying to breathe around the tap dance going on in her chest.

"What, you gonna swoon Rizzoli?"

Jane closed her eyes. Crowe. She swore the dick had it out for her, but right now, he couldn't touch her. She was too high. "Yeah, cause you're such a stud, Crowe." You could have cut her sarcasm with a knife it was so palpable. Without waiting to hear the answering laughs of their colleagues, she tucked the file of her first solo case close to her chest, heading to give Frost the good news.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: French is so not my first language. Or my second. I took two classes ages ago before I learned I can't learn other languages. So everything's a bit rusty and hazy. Take it for what it is.

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Three-

It was like falling, and then realizing you'd hit the ground a long time ago. Like drowning, only to come up for air and realize you were completely dry. The same feeling of missing the last stair when climbing a stair case. She'd be there and then gone, like mist suspended in time.

The fading never hurt. It just... was.

It was the coming back to everything, to the world, that hurt. The sudden breath of air that seared up her spine. Shakily, Maura raised her head, peeling her face from the sheet beneath her. Her eyes cut to the man beside her, turned away in the darkness.

He slept on, oblivious to the sound of her ragged breathing.

She wanted to keep him that way. Slowly, so as not to disturb him, she slipped out from under his outstretched hand and sat up. The corner of the bed coverings pooled around her, as she curled forward, trying not to feel. Her hips, both in front and back where his fingers had dug into her, moving her or holding her in place. Her lips. Her breasts. Her hands. Even her head, because didn't they all love to roughly curl their fingers in her hair and pull.

She felt the stiff ache of it all as she rolled out of the bed up onto her feet and quietly padded around the room, fishing for her clothing. Just barely, she kept herself from sighing aloud when she easily found everything except her underwear. That was always a particularly hard article of clothing to find- if she had been wearing any. So many times she went without because it was easier that way. At least this time, when she spotted the missing scrap of lace tucked under the closed curtain by the window, the offending thing was intact and she didn't have lines of bruising from where it had cut into her flesh before giving way.

Slipping it on, she pulled her dress carefully back over it, covering up her body. Her weapon. Her shame. She swung her wrap around her throat to cover his markings upon her flesh, grabbed up her clutch and coat, and left the room almost the same as she had entered it, though with hair undone and loose about her shoulders.

The elevator seemed to take forever as she waited impatiently for it, tying up her hair loosely, and when it opened, her stomach swooped low.

An elderly couple were looking back at her from inside.

It was early, maybe four in the morning. What on earth were these people doing awake so early?Did she just have the worst luck in the world, or what? It wasn't even properly morning! Maura only let herself hesitate for a split second, then stepped inside and pressed the button for the bottom floor though it was already lit.

"Good morning." The man murmured to her, ducking his head genteelly.

"Et à vous." She nodded back, giving him and his partner a tiny, well-constructed smile before turning her back. Her lips responded to him in French out of habit, one she had learned from her mother a long time ago and could never seem to break. Responding in another language set people on edge. It derailed conversation. That was what she wanted and usually it worked, so she fell back on it when she was stressed.

"Charmante n'est-ce pas?" The woman spoke up, indicating the hotel at large and sounding either slightly amused or mightily offended. Not an easy thing to tell at times.

U_sually_ it worked. Couldn't win them all she supposed. For her part, Maura almost groaned aloud, propriety taking hold thankfully and refusing to let her. She couldn't be rude. After all, she was her mother's daughter. Sort of. It wasn't a charming place to her, anyway, and she didn't want to talk to these people. She didn't want conversation, she just wanted to escape. She wanted a drink. Many drinks.

Instead, she turned with a false smile already on her lips, as though relieved. All she had to do was to make it seem like she didn't know much English. It wasn't a lie if she never said it outright. "Un lieu de charme pour un couple charmant." A compliment never hurt.

The woman's frosty smile softened to something more genuine. "Visite?"

Was she visiting? In a manner of speaking. She visited this hotel often, so it wasn't really a lie. "Pour un peu." Not long

A nod was the woman's reply, and then thankfully, the elevator bell dinged.

"Avoir." The man spoke the language rustily and haltingly but soft, like a caress.

She had to swallow before she could smile and respond to him properly. "Avoir."

The doors closed on their smiling faces.

Maura let her hand come out and rest on the bar at waist level. A light touch, barely anything at all, but it held her up when it seemed that nothing else would.

Now she really needed a drink.

When the elevator finally reached the lobby, she escaped without looking back, heading for the safety of the bar, where she knew no one would bother her.

Paul just gave her a smile on sight and tipped a bottle of wine, the red liquid like blood as it poured into a glass.

-o-

Around six in the morning, Maura stumbled back into her apartment. She had had too much to drink again. The hall was spinning and it was hard to get the door to lock after she shut it. Paul had kept the drinks flowing till he'd gotten the call, telling her it was time to slink her way home.

This always ended the same way, but it was the only thing that worked, even for a moment. Worked to make her forget it all. Forget the sounds, the smells. The memories. His hands sliding over her shoulders, down the pale skin of her arms and then skipping down to flare over her hips. Mouth near her ear. Breathe slipping over her sternum when he turned her. Slipping off her dress, moving her to the bed. His fingers moving against her lips as she panted.

_**-**__His weight pressing her into the mattress, her frame too weak to push him off. Slipping his hand up into her nightgown.__**-**_

She shook the images away and clawed at her coat to get it off, clutch falling to the floor with a dull thud. Her shoes went too, for good measure. It took two tries to get her coat on a hook. Once it was on, she bent double and used the fabric like a hammock to cradle her upper body. It helped to keep her upright.

Hitting her head against the wall slightly in a rhythm to sooth the pounding in her veins, she whimpered. It was getting worse. Getting to the point where she couldn't even tell sometimes if what flashed behind her eyelids was real or a nightmare that had chased her into wakefulness.

'Please let it be a dream.'

_**-**__The coarse hair framing his lips, brushing over her skin. The way it tickled when he whispered that it was a secret. The most magical of secrets. _Their_ secret.__**-**_

Maura gagged a little and put a hand to her mouth and one on the wall, using its steady and unmoving presence to ground her enough so she didn't fall over as she forced down the urge to vomit. All she could really do was wait for the feeling to pass. It always did. Eventually, everything passed, didn't it?

Shaking now, she half crawled, half-stumbled to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulled out the open bottle of wine inside. There was tepid stuff still in her room, but if she even thought too long about drinking _that_ she really was going to throw up. The burgundy red liquid splashed over her hand a little as she unsteadily poured the contents from it to a glass and brought it to her lips to gulp it down.

Blessed numbness tingled to her limbs, leaving a dull relaxation in it's wake.

Alcohol made everything better.

It had to.

Still staggering, she haltingly made her way to her bedroom without spilling what was in her cup, only taking the time to slide her wrap to the floor before sitting upon the foot of the bed. Suddenly, she felt boneless and dizzy. Not dizzy like the floor was moving, dizzy like the walls were dissolving instead of revolving.

Damn.

She needed to prepare for bed. Experience told her not to skip the important rituals, no matter how inebriated she was. The toothpaste was a disaster, she'd have a lot to clean up tomorrow, but she managed to brush her teeth in the en suite bathroom, comb out her hair despite the dull throbbing it ensued, and slipped her dress off and to a hook. That done, she lurched back into the bedroom, climbed under the covers and literally fell into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Four-

Jane opened the door.

"Hey, you must be Officer Rizzoli." A large bear of a man, shorter than her, but a descent height, stood and held out his hand. His beard put her at ease, because it softened his face and made him look younger. His friendly smile didn't hurt either.

"Hey, yeah. That's me." She shook his hand and then tossed a thumb over her shoulder. "This is Frost."

The two men shook hands.

"I'm Sergeant Korsak." He turned and gestured to the only other occupant in the room, a woman in heels, and a fancy dress that looked like it cost an arm and a leg. A small smile creased her cheeks, her red hair short and pinned securely about her head in a way that made a spider's web look simple and bulky. "This in Vianne."

"A pleasure." The woman murmured, taking Jane's hand without shaking it and looking deep into her eyes from arm's distance.

It held long enough that Frost dropped his hand and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Vianne is going to give you the basics, so you meld as seamlessly as possible."

Maybe seeing the flash of uncertainty Jane felt in her own eyes, Vianne smiled gently. "Do not worry. I've the perfect look for you, mon cher. We will work with what we have." She glanced over at Korsak. "You never told me you had such beauties in your halls, Vincent."

Jane coughed a little, taking back her hand as she tried to hold in a snort.

"Nor such oblivious ones." Vianne continued. She circled Jane slowly. "She will do nicely."

"If you don't mind me asking... Vianne," Jane started, following the woman progress around her as best she could. "exactly why are you doing this?"

"You do not know?" Vianne raised one eyebrow.

Just shaking her head, Jane otherwise kept still.

"You know of the girl, yes? The one who..." Here she paused.

"Was murdered?" Jane supplied.

"Yes. She was a good girl. So are the others. Good girls." She shook her head. "Mauvais is not."

"Mauvais. That's who we're after?"

Korsak nodded. "That's what the girls call them. Their name literally means 'bad'."

"The name is méchant. Twisted. Evil. He is meant to scare." Vianne hissed, showing anything but a perfect facade for the first time. She practically snarled. "Vianne is not afraid, though I have no desire to be next, I know that Mauvais let that poor girl die. He as much as killed her, though I have no proof."

"You think it's a man?" Jane questioned.

"I do not know." Her gaze dropped. She gestured at her chest with a jerking, fervent gesture. "I feel it might be."

"Neither Vianne nor any of the others have ever met the boss, or bosses, themselves but that doesn't mean that no one has." Korsak grumbled, placing a gentle hand on Vianne's shoulder before looking her square in the eyes. "That's where you'll come in. You'll be asking questions, lots of them. We just need some kind of lead to try to find them."

Jane looked around at the others, taking in Frost's uncertainty and Korsak's grim determination before returning her gaze to the persuasive woman in front of her. "Then we'll figure it out together." She put out her hands. "So what's first?"

Vianne only smiled.

-o-

"Seriously?"

Frost whistled through his teeth. "I don't know Jane. That dress _is_ kinda perfect."

"What are you, a fashion designer? This thing is uncomfortable as hell." She tugged at the hem of the form-fitting brown and blue dress Vianne had practically shoved her into. "Not to mention, my ass is hanging out like it's on display and there is no room for a weapon anywhere in here."

Vianne approached and slapped at her pulling hands. "You look _somptueux_, stop with the fussing."

"Som-what-now?" Jane asked her seriously.

"Sumptuous. Lovely. Hold still." In an iron grip, Vianne took Jane's chin in hand to study her face under more scrutiny. "Less is more in this business. Makeup is a subtle artifice, Jane."

Trying not to snort aloud, Jane allowed the woman to dab at her eyes again, if just to appease her harsh expression. Truthfully, she was trying not to let her colleagues down, she was just bored and uncomfortable. Not only did she not really care that much about makeup and even less about fashion, but Vianne said her name like 'schaine", so it didn't even seem like her name anymore. "I get it, okay? What I don't get is why the people who make these things think I want people to see my goods."

This time, Korsak was the one that snorted.

That didn't help the anxious feeling rising up into Jane's chest. "This might not be such a good idea."

"It'll be fine." Frost tried to sooth the agitated officer.

"But what if someone wants me to-" She made a gesture with her hand, hoping that would convey the wanted uncomfortable term. She'd worked vice for a few years now, but that was usually just to catch perps at soliciting or buying drugs, not for the long haul. It was hard to shake the feeling that she was getting in over her head.

"You leave that to me, ma cherie." Vianne spoke, her voice suddenly like ice. "No one will touch you without my permission, and I have no intention of getting you into an uncomfortable situation. My girls do what I say, unless Mauvias were to step in."

"So what if the boss_ does_ steps in?" Jane had to ask.

"You take him down, Rizzoli." Korsak growled.

"Got it. Um... and the other girls..."

Vianne lifted a single eyebrow. "What about zem?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Silence is your friend, cherie. Volunteer nothing and you will seem far more experienced than you are."

"And if someone asks me a direct question?"

"You are police, you have gone undercover before. Improvise."

Jane tried not to pout. Right. Improvise that she was a high-priced call girl. This was going to be harder to pull off than playing a hooker on a street corner. Korsak had provided her with a backstory, one to share with the people who asked, but that didn't mean she was prepared. She tried to square her shoulders, to feel the confidence she normally held, but it seemed fleeting now that she needed it.

This was soooo out of her comfort zone.

"It'll be alright, Rizzoli." Korsak said, sounding oddly gentle all of the sudden. "We've got your back."

Frost gave her a thumbs up.

"Okay." Reassured somewhat, Jane shook herself and turned back to Vianne. "So, when are we starting?"

"As with all good things, Jane, we begin with the night."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note- I need some love. So this is me, asking for love, cause I've had a really, really bad day. In case you have had one too, here's a chapter.

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Five-

Throbbing in time with her heartbeat. Pounding like a drum marching to the rhythm. It created explosions of pain that ricocheted across her skull and embedded deep into her brain.

Maura groaned.

No question, she was definitely hungover. Again. She lay across the soft comforter on her bed, long after waking, almost afraid to move. Afraid what she would feel. Afraid that it would make her throw up again. She shook at just the thought. Having woke hours before, she had already made three trips to the toilet, and the taste lingering in the back of her mouth wasn't helping matters.

Reaching down, she gripped the neck of a bottle of water and brought it to her lips to take a drink, wishing that it was something a little heavier than that. Maura felt a flash of concern with the thought. She wondered if she was becoming an alcoholic. After all, she missed it when the drink wasn't in her system. Too many times now too, she wasn't able to remember how she got home. Like last night. She barely recalled stumbling inside, but no memory of a cab or anything like that was in her head. It was just a blank slate.

But no. That would be the easy way out for her. She almost wished it was an addiction, because then she get help to solve the problem. Her head wouldn't let her forget though, that drinking was just a symptom of a larger, deeper problem. In her bid to repress things she didn't want to think about, nights she didn't want to remember, she had taken to abusing the stuff. However, she was not completely dependent upon it. Yet. She'd need more and more to keep it up though and if she developed a tolerance, than she'd really be in trouble. More than anything, she needed to avoid letting it go that far. She didn't think she'd be able to live down the shame. Only, there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it. No way to change her course, to put herself back on track. No other way out of her own head. Hesitantly she put trembling fingers against her forehead, making a small sound. It was pitiful. She _felt_ pitiful. Another night spent drinking herself into oblivion. Another night she couldn't take enough showers to wash her skin clean of.

Groaning, she levered herself up off her bed, shakily making it the the en suite again. This time though, she flipped on the shower rather than diving for the porcelain bowl. She got in the tub, her feet catching so she stumbled a little, plastering her face to the tiles to catch herself. Like a cat curling into a caress, she leaned under the spray and let the water sweep her fears away. Using a loofah, she scrubbed herself till her flesh was raw and aching to match her somewhat clearer head.

By the time she was in her small kitchen, sipping at a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper, the pain was under control. She still felt terrible, but it was something hidden, something below the surface. At least she could move. Could think. It was one of those days when she could push through the hangover and the too close memories. A day she could muster the energy to get up without the help of downing a few drinks.

She was preparing herself. Calming herself. After all, she had an appointment in only half an hour.

Speaking of- Checking the time, Maura set her now empty coffee cup in the sink with a gentle clink, folding up her paper crisply. She tucked that under her arm, pressed snugly against her soft, blue winter dress. Her boots clipped against the tile as she moved to the front door and pulled on her scarf and coat. Putting the paper into her bag, she swung it upon one shoulder and left the building. Once out into the cold, she was grateful for the thick wool leggings she was wearing today, as opposed to last nights, as she turned up her collar against the frigid wind. It took the taxi she caught most of the half hour to get her where she wanted to be, pulling up in front of the tiny little restaurant at only five to noon. "Keep the change." She said over her shoulder as she exited the vehicle. Her hands nervously adjusted her clothing, and then she strode with purpose to the entrance.

Deep breaths. It wouldn't take long. She could handle this. There hadn't been a time in her life when she hadn't. She stepped up to the concierge as soon as she was through the doors, pulling off her soft gloves. She gave him a demure little smile on the friendly side of appropriate. "Table 'Isles', s'il vous plaît, monsieur."

The man behind the podium, dressed in the dapper little suit that made him look unfortunately like an overdressed chicken, looked down searchingly and smiled when his eyes alighted on her last name in his book. "Ainsi, mademoiselle." He grabbed up a menu and bowed before stepping before her.

She followed his lead without questioning the small bow, but on the way there, he didn't quite make it to the table before she heard something familiar.

"Maura, darling." A voice called softly from a table they were heading for.

The concierge stepped aside immediately, once again bowing her forward.

At the tables side, near one of the main windows looking out onto the icy street, sat the woman who had called. Coiled, honey-like brown hair to her shoulders, the woman who lifted her hand with two fingers stretched upward to get her attention, took her napkin from her lap and set it to the right of her plate. Then she stood and together, they stepped into each other's space to gently kiss the air before each cheek. A gesture of practice.

Feeling a little lightheaded and breathless, Maura primly took her seat in echo of the other woman. "Hello, Mother." Strange now that she was here, she felt an emotion almost like relief to be in her mother's presence. It was astonishing when she'd been nervous enough to make herself hesitate not two minutes ago.

The woman before her hadn't changed. She was still proper and elegant, perfection personified. The way she smiled was carefully controlled, just enough curl to show a flash of whitened teeth, but nothing more. Even the light in her eyes seemed contained, put there purposefully, but not enough to make them shine.

Heaven forbid Constance Isles was anything but disciplined flawlessness.

"I do hope you don't mind, but I have a meeting with Christophe in an hour, so I ordered for us. Just to speed things up a bit."

Maura looked down at her lap, feigning concentration on draping her napkin over her thighs just so.

It didn't matter, not really. She couldn't let herself be bothered.

The waiter came, a calm young woman who's smile was real and kind, if strained with exhaustion, refilling her mother's half-empty cup and then pouring one similar for Maura.

They talked while they waited for their food to arrive and even after, while they ate, they spoke between bites of an excellent chicken marsala, paired with fresh asperagus roasted with garlic and truffle oil. It struck Maura as an empty exchange though, as most of their conversations were. A catching up of their itineraries rather than a heartfelt discussion. They spoke about her mother's art instillation a bit which animated the woman across from her slightly, and even now, Maura could hear the tin of disappointment her mother always bore knowing she hadn't become an artist too.

Or perhaps that was her imagination? Was she being too sensitive?

"How is work a the hospital, darling?" Constance asked.

Maura felt the air leave her slowly, as though she were bleeding it. Her food tasted ashen as she tried to swallow her mouthful down her too tight throat. She stared at her mother for a moment, unable to help doing so as she searched for words. "Oh, um, I'm still on... sabbatical, mother."

The woman seemed to prick up a little at that, really looking over at her. "Really? A sabbatical from your internship? Why is that?"

Twirling the contents of her glass, Maura kept her eyes on the swirling pinot noir rather than looking up. Truly a magnificent color it was, light red that stained the table beneath it the same color. She sighed. "I cited the reason in my last letter, mother. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh, Maura, you cannot expect me to remember every little detail you mention in passing." Constance replied hotly. She immediately looked regretful when Maura looked up at her. Her tone softened. "Just tell me, darling. What's going on?"

In her chest, Maura felt her heart leap up her throat. Her chest compressed as though a band was pulled around it, forcing her pulse to race. Should she- no. NO. "I'm working with Dr. Fielding... the oncologist at Harvard? We've been working on his research with liver cancer patients." That wasn't a lie. She was indeed corresponding with the man via e-mail, just as she did with her mother. It was exhausting and time consuming work. Just because she didn't have any other contact with Dr. Fielding, didn't mean she wasn't telling the truth. She simply wasn't telling all of it. "I wanted more time to devote to the technical side of the research, which I can now do freely." Besides, Dr. Fielding appreciated that he had someone devoted only to the grunt work of his study. Her mother would never understand why she wasn't working at the hospital now, anymore than she would believe anything... else. Best to leave it alone. "How was your trip to Manila?"

As simply as that, they were on to another subject.

Maura had forgotten, how easy it was, but how careful she had to be. She couldn't lie, not directly. Perhaps she was actually lucky that her mother wasn't involved in her life. That would only complicate an already hard situation.

Still, she couldn't stop the tiny, childlike wish for something more meaningful.

Once the meal was completed, so were they.

Her mother left for her meeting with Christophe with a soft brush of lips near cheeks as always and a whispered, "Au revoir."

"Au revoir." Maura echoed quietly, watching the woman leave. She then nodded to the concierge in passing and went out into the cold herself. Her mother was already gone. She climbed into a car summoned for her, folding her hem beneath her knees becomingly as she sat and pulled her legs in. It was as habitual as her mother's actions were, ingrained into her from the time she could breathe. After all, she was her mother's daughter. In a manner of speaking.

She gave her address to the driver without thought and looked out the window so that her thoughts could float over the edge of actual trains. Thus, she was startled when her cell phone rang. It pulled her away from her headache and from flitted thoughts of the woman she had just parted company with, but not in a pleasant way. She took it from her purse to stop the shrill, biting noise that pierced directly into her cranium. Seeing who was on the other line, her stomach sank, leaving only the asparagus and chicken to sit at the top threatening to come up.

There was no choice. She had to answer it, so she put it up to her ear, treating the phone like it was a viper ready to strike her carotid. Her voice came out strangled. "Yes?"

The cab driver looked up into his rearview mirror, but looked away just as quickly.

Words came over the line, ones she felt were the tip of a wave as the ocean tide came in, ready to drown her. She answered anyway. "I'm fine." Relative enough answer. "No, I don't need anything. I've got everything I could want." She made sure the driver wasn't looking at her, before bending closer around the phone to speak in a whisper. "What do you mean?"

More words, hollow and meaningless to her. They were always the same.

"But I went last night." She forgot to keep her voice down and when she glanced, the cab driver met her eyes in the mirror.

His were slightly questioning.

It was rude, but she made an attempt to ignore him, so he would stop.

The voice over the cell came sharply, bitingly.

She stiffened, drawing an even sharper breath.

The tone gentled abruptly. It cajoled. Asked as though life itself was in hanging in the balance.

Maura shook her head, blinking back tears. Wise to overhearing ears, she switched languages. "Ni kwa muda gani?" If the time was too early, there'd be no way she could-

Eyebrows up, the driver looked in his mirror once again, only to be ignored again.

The answer down the line was, the usual and to wear something red, so she looked perfect.

In response, she just bowed her head and nodded slowly, though there was no way that conveyed over the phone. "Sawa." Agreement. As though there was ever any other choice she'd make. Anything else that she could say. Her voice came out quiet and muffled.

Defeated.

The cab driver heard, but said nothing.

The voice came over the phone came one more time.

_"That's my girl."_

She hung up before anything else could be said, not sure she could bear it. It was already a struggle not to break down in the back of some strangers vehicle. She kept her eyes closed till her face didn't feel so hot. Until her heart stopped its protesting and went back into hiding where it belonged. She became unfeeling. Unshakable.

Her mother would be proud.

When the car arrived at her building, she got out mechanically and went up to her apartment. Every move was stilted and took so much effort, it was like moving through cement. As though she were an automaton with rusted hinges. Her fingers pulled off her coat, her scarf, her boots. With trembling movements, they slid the leggings from her skin. Skimmed the zipper downward on her dress. Peeled the thing off. Her legs made their way to the bedroom out of instinct rather than design. Once inside, she hung the garment up very carefully and then shut the door with a soft, snicking click. Pulling the covers back from the bed, she climbed in, sitting against the headboard and pulling them back over her. She curled her legs up in the comfort of her own arms, tucked her chin against her knees and stared blankly into space. All she had to do was be okay till the conference call with Dr. Fielding at two o'clock. After that, she could drink as much as she wanted to silence the hurt she didn't want to feel.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note- You do know that you don't have to read this, right? Everyone is aware? Good. To the person who's so displeased, I'm sorry, but the above words kinda apply to you. :) To everyone else, thank you so much for the uplifting words and encouragement, and for sticking with this. I know I'm putting Maura through the ringer, but she's my favorite and I'll pull her out again. With a little help from Jane. This chapter is especially for you dears.

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Six-

"Can you hear me, Frost?"

"Loud and clear." He grinned at her.

"Mic check, mic check." Korsak's voice came from both the small speaker near Frost and behind them both.

"I've got you coming in good too, Sergeant." Frost told the older man, tapping a few keys on the keyboard and bringing up a new screen of dark blue. "Anything you say from here on out will be transcribed. My turn." He leaned toward his small microphone and spoke into it. "This is Officer Frost, Vice tech. Can you hear me?" His words appeared in script on the blue screen.

Jane heard him coming through her tiny hidden earpiece and from the way Korsak touched a hand to his ear, he heard it as well. "We gotcha." She rolled her shoulders. "This is Vice undercover operative Rizzoli, signing in."

"Copy that." Korsak grumbled. "Sergeant Korsak, homicide liaison."

Their words appeared on the screen, each a different color.

"Great." Frost tapped some more at the computer keys. "Looks like we're all set."

"Some fancy doodads they're giving vice these days." Korsak murmured, squinting at the fine print on the computer.

"Oh, no, this is mostly tech I assembled, we had the transmitter and-"

"How far will it cover?" She double-checked, cutting her friend off before he could bury the homicide detective in an avalanche of tech.

It was a real threat, she'd seen it happen.

"You'll be set for five miles, Jane." Frost answered, swiveling in his chair away from the wall, where his equipment was set up almost like a barricade that would block him from view if anyone were to come into the tiny room unexpectedly. Not that that was a part of their plans.

"I'll be with you before you get that far." Korsak nodded to her. He came up in front of her so he could look her in the eye, though her heels made her taller frame dwarf him by almost a foot. Unexpectedly, his large hands settled on her shoulders, heavy and gentle enough to calm her nerves somewhat. "Just get settled tonight, okay Rizzoli? Nothing to it. You're there to get these girls to trust you, not to catch bad guys just yet. Vianne's gonna put you in touch with the person she works under at the end of the night, but keep your eye on the prize and don't rush to take out a minor player."

She nodded back to him resolutely.

"We'll be following everything that goes on and if you get in over your head at any point and Vianne's not around, we'll pull you out, alright? That's what these mics are for."

Jane took a deep breath and smiled her assurance that she was alright, despite the rampant butterflies in her stomach. She always felt like this before a sting, the thrill of fear mixed with adrenaline. It made her fingers tingle.

The old detectives lips twitched into an echo of hers, showcasing the assurance of experience. "You'll ace this."

The other woman in the room edged closer to Frost while the two of them were rallying. "This wire, this appa... how you say- device. It will not be detected? No making any noises, no loud sounds, correct?" Vianne asked, a little uncertainty painting her tone too high.

"It's all very discreet, Madame Vianne." Frost assured her smoothly. "Only Jane and Korsak will be able to hear me, no matter how close anyone else gets to the earpieces. Ditto for Jane's and Korsak's. The signal is encoded so that not just anyone can pick it up, and unless they get searched, it'll be fine."

Jane was impressed the kid was keeping his head level while Vianne was leaning over him, looking at all the lights and monitors.

He really had been the right choice.

"Très bien... then we should be going." For a moment, Vianne seemed suddenly apprehensive about this whole thing. The woman checked the watch face on the inside of her wrist unobtrusively, and seemed to use the moment to reign in her nerves. She was collected as she thumbed the latch on the door open and then gestured to Jane to proceed her out the door.

After another, deeper breath, and a single glance at Frost, Jane did as summoned.

The woman hurried her along with a hand at the middle of her back almost unconsciously, hovering but not touching as they exited the room. They came out into a hallway of a fancy hotel, right near the elevator. It was one of a few in downtown Boston that Vianne's boss used frequently as part of a complex system of interchanging locations. This hotel room they were using was set aside for them by a contact Korsak had called in a favor to. It was a necessary cover and precaution, seeing as they couldn't be certain the owner or manager of this hotel wasn't the leader of the prostitution ring as a whole.

They needed to find this 'Mauvais' guy before anyone else got hurt.

Jane needed to find him. She wasn't going to blow her first undercover operation. There was no way. So, maybe she pressed the button for the service elevator harder than she needed to because of her nerves that had come roaring back the moment she stepped out into public in this getup she was in.

Vianne tsked.

She tried to ignore the woman. While they waited for the doors to slide open, she couldn't help but pull at her dress again though.

"You are lovely. Stop fidgeting." Vianne said without turning around to look at her.

Jane glared at her back. "Sorry. I guess I'm used to _wearing_ clothes, not having them painted on me."

At that, the french woman peered back at her out of the corner of her eye and chuckled. "Then you are used to the wrong thing entirely, ma chère fille."

Taken aback, Jane let her face go slack and rubbed her neck a bit awkwardly. They entered the empty elevator when it arrived with Vianne still smiling.

"Good luck." Frost said over the mic. He had already dialed into the buildings security system and tapped into the camera feeds, so knowing this, she grinned slightly at the red light in the corner of the elevator.

They rode the thing all the way down to the hallway off the main lobby.

The hotel was huge, towering it's stories into the skyline. So naturally it had it's own restaurant on the ground floor, as the bigger chains usually did. It was a complete separate entity, with a detached bar where the patrons could enjoy meeting or discussing business instead of eating. As the two women traversed the lobby, Jane couldn't help looking upward at the chandelier and the sweeping archway that lead into the bar. The filigree alone was probably worth more than she made in a year.

When they stepped past the entrance, Vianne went straight over to a small booth at the back of the room. It was a discreet little thing, tucked away almost _behind_ a potted plant, but it had a certain vantage point that made it special. It had a perfect view of the entrance.

Jane slid in beside the woman, still looking around. Taking in the scene, as it were. There weren't very many patrons in here. One man sat at the bar, swaying his head back and forth gently and another was sitting at a table reading a paper. She wasn't worried, especially since the Madame next to her didn't seem bothered by how few people were around them. It was early yet- not quite time for pre- or post-dinner drinks, so people had yet to filter in she supposed.

Beside her, Vianne flipped open a fancy folder, keeping it to her right out clear eyesight. She started writing things on the page.

"So, we just wait?" Jane whispered to her, leaning slightly toward her ear.

Vianne nodded subtly without looking up. "The girls do know what to do. We change the hotels every night, and zey know the plan ahead of time." She looked up at Jane's eyes. "They are not part of your investigation."

It wasn't a question, but Jane still nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, we just want the boss, like Korsak said. You and the girls have protection from prosecution because of your cooperation, Vianne."

The woman nodded.

So for a long while, Jane did just that. She looked around inconspicuously as possible, wondering if she would be able to recognize any of the woman's 'girls' on sight, just from looks. Probably not, but how long were they supposed to wait here exactly, just cooling their heels till someone showed up? Her system was full of energy and she felt the need to use it. If she was ever going to be a part of a surveillance team or a stake out, she'd have to learn to curb her innate desire to fidget. Out on the streets, she could walk around, play with something in her hands. In this dress, she was almost afraid to move for fear she'd come popping out of the outfit.

Her disquiet wasn't going away. Could something have already gone wrong? She rubbed her palms on the sides of her thighs. "When do your "girls" usually arrive anyway?" It was asked in a hush to her shoulder, with minimal movement of her mouth.

"The lateness of the hour brings them. Just wait, cherie." Vianne continued writing, unperturbed.

-o-

The first girl arrived almost forty minutes later.

Jane didn't realize it at first, of course. She'd taken to staring blankly at the bar and the milling people around it, bored out of her skull and attention wondering. Not that she would have been able to tell anyway. These weren't street hookers- these ladies cost a pretty penny for their clients. This was also a really fancy place and she doubted they would be indiscreet enough to where cliché things like fishnet stalkings. So she only saw a woman dressed in a blue, shapely dress enter the archway. Her bound up red hair made her red lipstick stand out even more vividly, but other than that, she was unremarkable in among the usual clientele of the establishment. It wasn't until the woman came over and slid in the seat across from them that it became obvious that this must be one of the woman who worked with Vianne. Under Vianne's contact and therefore, under Mauvais.

The red haired woman eyed Jane up and down, as though assessing her in that single long look. Then she turned and smiled demurely at Vianne.

Vianne returned the smile, her grin looking pasted on. She looked back at her folder, on the page opposite of the one she had been writing on. Running a finger down the jumbled list there that appeared to be in some kind of code, she tapped one entry gently. "Leven Fiorg. He'll be arriving any minute with a tie to match your lovely dress, Annabeth."

The girl inclined her head and then stood to make her way over to the bar.

Jane watched her leave, still surprised at the woman's entrance.

Just as Annabeth swayed past the entrance though, a business man in a pressed suit entered the room. He had a tie the same color as escort's dress. When his eyes locked on, she made a beeline for him, smiling warmly and seductively.

Unable to just sit and watch them walk to another part of the bar, Jane looked away from the display, trying not to blush. Damn. Why was she suddenly feeling so shy and queasy? This never happened to her. She'd been beside working girls before, had seen them get into cars with strange men and fought the urge to call them back. Why was it that women selling themselves on the side of the street seemed so much less... _underhanded_- than meeting in a fancy hotel bar? Was she really that naive still, to think that prostitution only happened on street corners? Maybe it was just because it was so open and less secret. It was happening right here where people had drinks before going to sleep, or business men made other deals, both straight and sordid.

It wasn't taking place in the dark. Not off strange alleyways or shabby motels.

As Jane was thinking over her own prejudice, another girl abruptly sat across from them. She blinked at the sudden presence.

This one looked a great deal like what she would say looked back at her in the mirror every morning. Softly tanned skin, dark hair and eyes. She was pulling off the silver gown draped over her figure with an ease that was almost ethereal.

So, obviously not exactly like her.

After the exchange of smiles, these less rigid and false, Vianne tsked at the woman. "Bernard wants you again, Claire. You be careful, he may have fallen."

The woman nodded with another, wider smile. "I can handle him."

"Room 3702."

Another nod and the other end of their booth was empty again.

"Fallen?" Jane questioned Vianne quietly.

"A crush, cherie." The woman said distractedly.

"Oh." Jane looked up, sweeping the bar with an attentive gaze, over across the bar, and back toward the door. Another woman entered, this one on the arm of a man already, so she looked away.

It surprised her when the woman and man both sat down across from them.

"Cashen, Melody." Vianne smiled that small, fake expression with only a hint of amusement this time and looked at her list. "Liza and Teddy are waiting for you in room 1708."

The couple got up, the man winking at Jane and her hanging jaw.

Vianne chuckled. "Thought I only had women, did you?"

She could only nod. "So they come and get their... assignments from you?"

"We used to switch, every night a new girl on the list, but less and less since I have proven myself useful." The woman answered, sparing her a small, reassuring smile.

There was lull after that, in which Jane thought that two separate women would join them, but who continued on to the restaurant instead of stopping. There really was no way to pick these women out of a crowd of fancy, well-to-do people. They all looked alike. Giving up, Jane kept her eyes on the table top for a while, waiting to meet the next person who worked for Mauvais. She had the feeling this was going to be a very long night.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note- Had difficulty getting this to sound right, but, here you go. :p

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Seven-

It was a hangover, like all the others. The price she paid for staying sane. If she could just roll over and go back to sleep, she could maybe push away the pounding in her head. Only, she hadn't gone to sleep drunk the night before. She'd had some to drink, yes, but had ended up crying herself to sleep before her alcohol consumption could get to the needed levels. That's why her eyes felt glued together and the skin of her cheek was hot to the touch, resting against her forearm.

Maura came to, to fervent knocking. For a second, she peered around blearily, wondering where on earth the sound was coming from. Belatedly, she realized it was echoing into her bedroom from down the hall. The front door. She felt disoriented and stiff as she tumbled out of bed, catching herself on the wooden floor before she could hurt herself. Lifting her head, she looked at her clock. It was nine o'clock in the morning.

Who in the world was making such a raucous at her door at nine a.m.?

"I'm coming!" She yelled at the impatient knocking, annoyed now that she realized she had gotten only five hours of sleep. Dr. Fielding's call had run later than usual, as their findings seemed to indicate a drop in white T-cells in the patients they were observing. She'd spent hours writing up notes and compiling data for the entry in his research. By the time she'd felt comfortable in putting down her work for the night, she'd been too exhausted and too emotional to stay awake. Her tears were even still dried out on her cheeks.

Hastily, Maura went into her washroom, filling her hands with cold water before splashing in on her face and scrubbing at the smears. She looked at herself in the mirror as she dried the droplets. Then, she hurriedly tugged a robe over her shoulders and tied it on the way to the front door.

The knocking was sporadic now, occurring every few seconds and breaking for several more in between. Maybe whoever it was had heard her. Up on her tiptoes before the door, she peered out the peephole. She dropped back down, a frown creasing her features, confused like she hadn't been in a very long time. After taking a deep breath, she opened the door and looked out. "Susie?"

The woman standing before her door sighed and smiled happily. "Dr. Isles. Thank goodness I got the right place. I was worried I hadn't been given the right address."

"W-What are you doing here?" Maura asked, her voice unstable and small, cracking a little with interrupted sleep.

"I... I wanted to, you know, see how you were doing." She seemed embarrassed.

There was a pause, a moment of silence rife with expectation. It took Maura a moment to realize how rude she was being and for her instincts to kick in. "Uh, won't you come in?" She held the door open slightly.

Susie Chang ducked her head in thanks and passed through the gap.

"Can- Can I take your coat?" Still working on autopilot, Maura held her hand out. "Do you want anything to drink? Water, Tea?"

"Some tea would be lovely." Her guest sighed, handing over her coat and scarf.

Maura hung the items up, realizing from the chill in the fabric that it must be frigid outside.

They moved to the kitchen together, one right after the other. She gestured the woman to sit while she filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. Pulling her sleeve out of the way, she turned the heat on, suddenly realizing she was in her robe. With a guest in her house. She shook her head. Her mother had taught her better. "Please, have a seat." Her lips tilted into a polite smile when she saw Susie hovering awkwardly in the entrance to the kitchen, indicating the chairs at the small kitchen table where she usually sat to drink her first cup of coffee and read the paper. "I'll just be a moment."

Susie nodded.

Quickly, Maura made her way to her bedroom and stripped the soft robe off of her body, pulling on a clean bra, pair of yoga pants and soft blouse. Her hair was a mess as she looked herself over in the mirror, but she didn't have time to do more than run her fingers through it on her way back to the kitchen.

Still sitting where she had been left, Susie smiled at the sight of her.

The tea kettle started whistling.

"I apologize, Nurse Chang." Maura said smoothly, feeling a little more presentable and back on sure footing. She moved to take the boiling water off the heat and poured it into a teapot, part of a tea service she kept by the stove. A largely European upbringing had taught her quite a lot about proper presentation. "I wasn't really expecting visitors." She supplied by way of explanation for her change in attire. Pulling down two mugs, she grabbed the sugar and cream and brought the whole thing over to where they would be talking. She set it between them as she sat across the table.

"Oh, no, I'm the one who should be apologizing!" Susie said, taking the steaming mug that was handed over to her. "I should have called, but I thought I'd have time before my shift, so..."

"How are things at the hospital?"

"Dull." The woman said bluntly.

Maura blinked at her, smiling. "Oh?"

"I hope you'll forgive me for say so, but I'd gotten used to having lunch with you and doing rounds for your patients. I've largely been working with Dr. Shoul and Wesley since you left."

"Shoul the Ghoul?" Maura moaned in pity. "How on earth did you get suck with him?"

For a moment, Susie didn't answer, but sipped at her tea. When she looked up though, her eyes were bright. She shrugged. "I'm a little too weird for the other doctors. They complain."

Feeling terrible, Maura shook her head. She knew the feeling of being a bit of an outsider because of her "weirdness", and she hated to think of Susie dealing with that alone. The two of them had bonded and become friends mostly because they were both outsiders. They fit each others personalities well, taking their separate quirks in stride. Susie built dioramas and Maura had a thing about shoes, but in the hospital or in the lab down in the basement, they spoke exactly the same language. Science and medicine.

Sometimes, it was the only contact they had where they felt understood or important.

"I'm sorry." Maura caught the RN's eyes before they both looked away again. She cleared her throat. "I've missed our lunches too. I'd have called, but I never got around to getting your number and I'll admit, I've been rather... preoccupied."

"Dr. Covenosky said you opted out of your internship." Susie said suddenly, quietly, not looking up from her cup.

Maura started to say something, but stopped, lost for words. "Yes." She finally stated.

"That's how I got your address." Susie chuckled in embarrassment. "It seemed well,_ unlike_ you. You were always the most eager to learn, always the most excited intern to be working there. So- I inquired at the records department."

Dumbfounded, Maura could only blurt the first thing that came to mind. "Why?"

Susie blushed. "You're my only friend. Well, you and Tony, but he doesn't exactly count since he's my brother."

Maura tilted her head to the side, flattered, but not really sure she was understanding the other woman properly. She couldn't be Susie's only friend. The RN was well-liked among her brother's colleagues. There were plenty of times Maura had gone down there and seen her chatting with one or another of the lab technicians.

"I mean-" Susie hurried to say, growing even redder. "Of all the interns, of all the doctors, you've always the kindest and most respectful. You never treated the nurses like they knew less than you, or like they didn't exist." The woman looked up. "I realized I might have been taking you for granted, so... I wanted to come and find you. To talk to you." A hand reached out to touch Maura's on the table. "Did something happen, Maura? Is that why you left?" Her eyes were earnest.

Startled, Maura jumped a little, looking at the hand on hers. Suddenly feeling trapped, she gripped her mug with her other till her knuckles turned white so she didn't let it show. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." Her voice came out a squeak.

"Everything seemed so much better, just having you to talk to. I- I thought you were happier too." Susie blushed even harder than the second time around. "Then you were just- gone."

Maura felt hot hives wanting to crawl up her throat already, but shoved the desire to bolt down and swallowed it back to the hollow pit of her stomach. "S-some things came up. It wasn't feasible for me to be doing my internship at that time. It had nothing to do with you, Susie. We- we _are_ friends." The woman showed up at her apartment to see how she was doing, what else could they be? She had a friend.

The hopeful light that entered the RN's eyes seemed to make them shine. "Yeah?"

"Yes." Maura confirmed more resolutely. "Yes, friends."

"Do- do you want to talk about why you felt you had to leave?" Susie asked softly.

Her heart skipping a beat, Maura tried to speak around the way it made her chest ache. "No. NO."

Looking hurt, Susie looked back at her tea, taking a sip.

Maura felt awful in a split-second flat. Here this woman had come out of her way, had basically complimented her in ways she'd never heard from another person's lips, and she was being mean. "No, it's not like that. I just... I can't really explain it to you. To anyone. I just know that this is what I need to be doing right now." She smiled at her companion. "I've got obligations. Once they're done, I'll be returning to finish my internship. Who knows? Maybe we'll be doing our rounds together again?"

A smile like nothing Maura had ever seen on the other woman dazzled her. "Really? That would be amazing!"

Similarly, Maura smiled wide too. "Definitely." She felt a small warmth replace the chill in her chest as the two of them continued talking like that, Susie catching her up on all the things she'd missed at hospital during her sabbatical, and she in turn, informing her of the breakthroughs she and Dr. Fielding had made in the interim. It made her happier than she could say to throw all her cares on the back burner and just be... normal for once. She had to fight not to break down into sobs at the pressure that relieved from her shoulders, for even just a second.

There was a knock at her door.

Distracted, Susie looked at her watch and her eyebrows shot straight up. "Gosh, I've really been here that long? I've got to get to work." She stood. "Thanks for the tea, Maura, it was great to see you."

Maura was sad to see the other woman leave. "You too, Susie." She saw her to the door, opening it to see a delivery man standing at her door with a package.

At the last second, Susie turned back. "Oh! Can I see your phone?"

Not sure what the woman was getting at, Maura complied nonetheless, pulling it from her purse by the door.

The RN pulled her phone from her hand and punched a number into it, handing it back with a smile. "Call me. We'll get together for a girl's night."

Looking at the phone after the woman had left, Maura saw the new entry in her contacts list. "Susie" with a little smiley face next to it. It made her smile.

"Ma'am?"

She started a little, having forgotten about the man already. "Oh, yes." Absently, she signed for the package and took it, looking at the label as he walked away.

The smile slipped from her face.

Maura stepped back inside her apartment, staring at the offending 'from' address. Couldn't she just have one moment's peace? She leaned against the door, put out and wallowing again. Suddenly, the door latched shut behind her and the sound seemed to echo in her head. She was trapped.

No.

She wasn't going to let her head fall back into that.

Susie had been here. She cared.

Maura didn't want to lose the fleeting feeling of happiness that gave her. Not just yet. So, she grabbed her coat and wrapped up warm to venture outside, leaving the package by her door. At the street level, she choose a direction at random and started walking. Her steps slipping over the sidewalk and the slight sting of cold pushed her worries and thoughts away again. She made it happen. After a bit of a walk, she found a little cafe and went inside. For the rest of the afternoon, she let herself float in a bubble, free of thought and worry, knowing the hour was fast approaching that it would burst but unwilling to acknowledge the deadline in any form as she drank in the energy of life that radiated from the hustle and bustle of such a busy place.

The coffee warmed her.

Returning to her apartment only once nighttime had settled around the edges of the sky, her hands trembled fumbling out her keys. The package was still waiting for her.

It was inevitable. Inescapable.

She had an obligation. A duty. But for the first time in a long time, she'd had a good day, and she could face what she had to do a little more bravely. Picking up the small box, she carried it to her bedroom. It taunted her, sneering. She opened it.

Inside, was gorgeous black silk lingerie. Her fingers slid over the material briefly, appreciating the design and the way it draped downward when she picked it up. A thing of beauty.

A shame to waste it. She pulled off her clothes methodically and slipped it on, pulling it over her hips where a small small triangle of material had been cut away to show off a fair amount of her skin. Then she went to her closet and from the very back recesses, she pulled out a blood red dress draped from a hanger by its spaghetti straps.

It had been a present, many years ago, like the lingerie. One she'd never worn but once. Holding the dress up under her chin, she pressed it against her body, against the jutting hip bones and large breasts so that she could look in the mirror and see what it said she had become. Wondering if this should be the dress she was buried in, so that the whole world would know the truth about her.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note- Answers are coming. Patience. :)

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Eight-

Jane was starting to get bored. It was late enough that most of the workers had already gotten their assignments and there were hardly any patrons here. Her first night on this undercover job and it felt like she'd accomplished nothing. It was the same routine over and over again, and suddenly she had realized something she'd never even thought of before.

All the people they met with were the same and none of these girls (and boy) knew anything about who they were really working for, at least on the surface. They were actually a group that was remarkably willing to just go with the flow. As long as they got paid, it seemed to make little difference to them. Maybe if she got some one-on-one time to question them, and the chance to point out that one of their number was dead, she'd be able to get some straight answers. Until such an opportunity presented itself, she was stuck sitting next to Vianne in their booth, watching a parade of people and trying not to vibrate out of her seat.

Just when she was ready to take anther break and visit the restroom to compose herself, Jane looked toward the door with a glance that changed her view of the matter entirely. In a sudden, loss-of-gravity kind of way. She froze in place, looking upward out of her eyelashes, feeling all the breath leave her body in a painful and hushed gasp.

There, framed in the archway entrance, was one of the most dazzlingly gorgeous women she had ever seen. It was impossible to look away in her shock. The woman had hair the color of honey, dark and rich in places where it looked like caramel, light like sunshine in others, all in slightly curled waves. Her delicate looking shoulders and collarbones were speckled lightly with freckles and only stripped by thin spaghetti straps of a brilliant red dress. The rest of her body was pure sensuous perfection, lines in perfect strict slits. Every curve was hugged by the dark red satin material that looked to small to really be called a dress and her heels were long and inviting. Terribly inviting. An exposure of pale skin ran up treacherously high on her right leg. Skin that looked softer than any silk. If that wasn't a "fuck me" outfit, none existed.

Jane's eyes sprang upward as the tilted head raised enough for her to see the woman's face.

The features were soft, but just angled enough to make the definition clear and a slightly sharp nose seemed to enhance her red lips. Shockingly deep red lips that were turned up in a polite smile. One look at her eyes as they flashed around the room though and it was like seeing a piece of wood splinter before her eyes. The green returned to it's shroud of eyelashes. After just a momentary pause, the stunning woman made her way over to the bar. She didn't speak a word but motioned to the bartender and took a seat off to the right.

The man responded like she was a regular, retrieving her a glass of wine without being prompted. His smile that he directed toward the woman was a little creepy.

Shaking her head to stop her staring and throw off the sudden chills that raced down her spine, Jane turned a little, putting her mouth closer to Vianne so she could keep her voice low and the movement of her lips to a minimum. "Who is that, Vianne?"

Confused, the french woman looked up at her. "Who?"

Jane nodded toward the woman in red now sipping her wine at the bar. "Do you know her?" If the stranger was a regular here, Vianne could have run into her before. It wasn't a stretch.

The woman's face, when she saw who Jane was looking at, crumpled a little.

"You recognize her at least." Jane pressed.

_"I'll run her through facial recognition too."_ Frost said over the line in her ear.

"She is- known." The woman next to her said haltingly. "You should not concern yourself. She does not work for Mauvias."

"You're sure about that, are you? When you don't even know who the guy is?"

"I know whoever she is here for is not someone you should be getting involved with. He may be no Mauvais, but he is obviously connected and powerful. It could be she is here for no one but herself, bur she would not be here at all if Mauvais did not allow it." She grabbed a hold of Jane's upper arm tightly. "Please, Jane. You are undercover. You do not want any unnecessary attention being drawn your way."

Frowning, Jane eyed the usually assured woman beside her. "So you really are afraid of Mauvais."

A flash of fire entered the other woman's eyes. "I am cautious. I am not reckless. Those are not ze same thing as being afraid." Vianne hissed. The fact that she seemed really antsy all of a sudden ruined the effect of her words though.

Jane looked back over to the woman in red. What was it about her that had Vianne so spooked? "She's not one of yours, but that may mean she's _more_ likely to have met Mauvais, rather than _less_."

"She is not one of us, no." Vianne shook her head, looking cornered. "She... is exclusive in her choices."

"What, she comes here that often to pick up dates?"

"I would not presume." The french woman said, lowering her voice even more, till she was barely whispering. "But she is not to be messed with, petite bibelot. Others have tried and found themselves... relocated."

That sounded ominous, but if anything, it intrigued Jane's interest more.

"_I'm not sure it's a good idea to be asking too many questions about her, Jane._" Korsak's voice came over the pill in her ear. "_Keep your eye on the prize, remember?_"

"She is, how you say, 'off limits'?"

"She's a regular though, you said so yourself." Jane wasn't going to be scared off so easily. She had a possible start, a hint of a lead, and she wasn't going to let it pass her by. "You've never met the boss, Vianne. Maybe she has."

"_Or it is her._" Frost chipped in over the radio.

"No way." Jane scoffed quietly, getting up from her seat.

"No." Vianne hissed at her, trying to catch her. "Cherie!"

Ignoring the woman, Jane straightened her dress a little self consciously as she made her way over to the bar and the woman seated there. She almost wished she was back in her other work clothes. At least the fishnet stockings covered up some skin.

"_Hold off, Rizzoli, you're not after that one._" Korsak growled one final time in her ear.

But Jane couldn't turn away now. She'd never seen someone look so... so broken in her entire life. Above wanting to question this woman as a possible witness, she also wanted to meet her. Talk to her. Besides, her gut had never led her astray before, and right now it was screaming at her.

So she slid into the empty seat next to the woman, unconsciously mimicking the fold of the other woman's legs so she could perch on the seat rather than tip it over. "Uh, I'll have what she's having." She spoke up when the bartender came over to her.

The man eyed her, then the woman in red, before he finally nodded and stepped away.

Barely a flicker of an eye from the woman answered their exchange, yet Jane felt herself being examined. Like this woman could see right in to her soul with so little effort, it would be ridiculous.

"_We got a hit, Jane. Her name is Maura Isles, she's a registered medical doctor. Works at a local hospital. She's a resident of Boston, but she's got dual citizen-ship between the U.S. and Canada, which is where her mother is from._" Frost whistled. "_Vianne and Korsak might be right, Jane. She's loaded and her family is extremely well connected. I just found a picture, with her father and the Mayor golfing together. You need to be careful_."

Korsak added in his two cents as well. "_Wait till we get more on her, Jane, you don't know what you're walking into._"

Jane heard them chattering in her ear, and she listened to their cautions. But what she was hearing would take too long and in the meantime, she could lose her chance. Rather than wait and see, she turned toward the woman in question very deliberately and smiled as charmingly as she could. Which was quite charming, if she did say so herself. "Hi. I'm Jane."

Finally, the eyes well and truly slid over to her, tiny smile coming to play at red lips.

"This is the part where you return my greeting and tell me your name too." Jane stage whispered after a moment of silent inspection passing both ways between them.

"Is that so?" There was a hint of amusement in the undertone of the sultry voice. A slight pursing of the upper lip showed a fought off widening of the curve, like the woman was trying not to laugh.

With her? At her? Jane's ears caught onto the sound too much to discern, all her attention catching on that tone. Soft, full, gentle... and sad. "It is." She answered, clearing her throat.

Miss Isles' eyes, which Jane could now see were actually hazel, flashed in further humor. "I don't believe we've met yet...J-ane."

Jane had to swallow as the woman drew out her name like it was silk. "Well, 'yet' sounds promising, and I believe I've kept up my part in the introduction." She nodded to the bartender as he deposited her drink and sidled back over to the other side of the bar where a man was already on his way to being very drunk. Her tone turned wheedling as she glanced back. "So?"

Gulping a swallow of wine, Maura Isles set her glass down and turned her body toward her.

She was being examined. Thoroughly. It sent a shiver up her spine quite unlike anything the bartender elicited. Quite unlike anything she was used to feeling altogether, in fact.

"Maura."

Smiling wider, Jane leaned close on one elbow. "Well it's nice to meet you... M-aura."

An eyebrow raised at her. "Are you this... forthright, in all your introductions, Jane?"

"Yep." Jane answered honestly. She tapped her glass, feeling a wobble of nerves suddenly break through her confident start. "Besides, it looked like you could use an ear to bend, so I thought I'd pop over and oblige."

"Oh really?" More amusement.

Taking this as a promising sign, Jane sidled a hair closer to the woman. "Maybe I could earn it if we started with something a little more mundane. Why don't you tell me something about yourself?" Yep. That was definitely a smile she was getting.

"To a complete stranger?"

"Hey, I'm not a stranger! I_ introduced _myself." She took her cup of wine in hand and took a swallow. It was the best wine she'd ever tasted, but she didn't know if that was because of the bouquet or the company. Best not to take too much though. Only enough so that she didn't arouse suspicion. "If you're really that shy, I'll start."

The woman waved a hand, as if telling her to give it her best shot.

"I-" She paused, panic threatening before she pulled herself firmly together. "I'm nervous. I don't do this very often. Go right up to strangers, that is."

"I'm not a stranger. I introduced myself too." A tilt of the head with a charming grin now. "You seem to be in your element though."

Jane laughed. "No way. I'm more of a t-shirt and jeans type of girl. You're the one who looks like she was made for this place."

For some reason, Maura's a yes darkened a little and she looked away back to her wine glass, which she swirled. "Do I?" It was quiet.

Great. "Well, I mean, you do have something in common."

Curiosity and a little bit of outrage blossomed in the eyes once again looking at her. "Oh?"

"Yep." Jane took another shallow drink from her own glass. "Both breathtaking." She snapped her lips closed, mortified by what had slipped from them. It was a second before she could look back to her right.

The woman had blushed lightly. "That's quite the compliment." She didn't seem displeased.

An awkwardness fell between them.

Just when Jane was about to open her mouth and try to fix it, the woman scooted closer, toward the edge of her seat so that their knees brushed. "I don't usually_ let_ people do this, either. Come right up to me, I mean." She held out her hand, as though wanting to shake.

"Pleased to be the first, Maura." Jane smiled, took the proffered hand, and slid a thumb across the soft skin there. It really was just as soft as it looked.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note- Or not patience. Whatever. Such demanding readers ;) No cooperation, no cooperation at all. (Said just like the Dodo from Alice in Wonderland)

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Nine-

She was nothing more than the ends of her fingers, the nerves in her hands. She was nothing but that feeling. It was rough and soft at the same time. Warm. For a heartbeat of a moment, Maura Isles felt... safe.

"So, are you waiting for someone then? Or can I keeping chatting you up?" Jane smirked, in a way that told the world she did it often and never because she was anything but confident in herself.

Maura took back her hand from the other woman's grip with another blush.

What was the matter with her? One look at this gorgeous woman and she felt like she was falling apart at the seams! Even her tongue was being rebellious. She never used her real name when she came here, much less told it to complete strangers. Not ever. No even to someone as stunningly beautiful as...

Jane.

"You'd actually want to? Keep 'chatting me up'?" Maura took back up her wine and took a sip, telling herself to calm down and not act like such a fool. Her eyes stayed fixed on the glass, but peeked at Jane from the corners as unobtrusively as possible. She didn't want to seem like she was staring.

Which she completely was.

"You? Definitely." Jane smiled as she took another sip of her wine, that same smile that melted something frozen around Maura's heart. Her eyes raked over Maura in a way that made the doctor feel beautiful. "That's a spectacular dress, by the way."

The dress. A bitterness flooded into Maura's throat, replacing the hopeful naivety that had somehow blossomed in her chest like a seed exposed to sunlight, and then just as quickly thrust back into darkness. The feeling pulled at her shoulders, bringing them down in a decidedly unkempt sag her mother would have scolded her about. She swallowed

Dammit.

There was a process for this, a plan. She was supposed to be a _temptress_. This was her time to get her head in the right space, to tuck herself away and act the way her mother had been teaching her for years. As if nothing in the world could touch her. As though she owned these men, body and mind. It was still her responsibility, even if it was one she hated. She needed to adopt the persona, to shut down her feelings and just do what she had to do. There was no choice.

But how could she do that now? She tweaked the material spanning over one thigh distastefully, hating it. Almost wishing that this could indeed be the dress she was buried in, just so that she didn't have to pretend anymore. She smirked and without raising her head, spoke toward her lap. "A dress fit for a funeral."

Her words brought about a pregnant pause heavy with some kind of tension she could really name.

It felt like a moment of uncertainty on Jane's part, like she was searching for words. "You think about death often?" The woman set her glass down on the bartop, sliding it to the side so that she could lean where it had been to look her way.

"Why not?" Maura shrugged. She flipped a stray hair away from her eyes, swirling her drink with one hand, before looking up at Jane below her lashes.

Jane just shrugged back. "I suppose it's just not a pleasant thing to think about."

"Everyone dies." Maura murmured. She was thinking of the cadavers she'd worked on in medical school, how peaceful they'd seemed. It seemed like a fascinating quandary, to find peace only after one's life was extinguished.

"I prefer the saying that everyone lives once." Jane's voice suddenly interrupted.

Maura looked up at her.

"So why waste it worrying about what might be?"

Meeting the other woman's eyes, Maura felt a jolt as her gaze was met with intense dark brown that seemed to be offering something even as it took something from her. Her secrets. Her worries. Those eyes bound them up and pushed them away better than any alcohol ever had.

Why did she suddenly get the impression that this woman could see through everything, every facade she'd ever tried to build up in order to hide and survive what she was doing. She felt as though she could be safe under that gaze for the rest of her life. "That's a very optimistic way of looking at the world."

With a grin, Jane leaned in close to her ear.

She didn't move for fear of scaring the woman away, breath suddenly stolen from her lungs. "You're kinda beautiful, you know that?" She breathed.

Idiot.

She had no idea why she suddenly decided to blurt that out.

It seemed to catch Jane by surprise too. "Is that a joke?" She half-smiled.

"If you don't know that you're absolutely gorgeous in that dress and those heels, you're going about this all wrong." Maura teased. How could this woman not know that she was the most beautiful person to ever grace this hotel bar with her presence?

"Let's just say I'm new to picking up conversation with women at bars." Jane laughed.

"Then you'll have to learn quickly." Maura looked beyond the brunette's shoulder to the back of the bar. "Well someone else knows it very well."

Jane turned.

At the edge of a booth, staring intently at them, Madame Vianne looked almost frightened. Suddenly, Maura felt guilty. Here she was chatting up Vianne's new girl without even thinking of the possible consequences. She shook her head at herself. Could she be any more selfish? She'd already been talking to this, Jane, for too long. She needed to put a stop to it.

"It's okay." Jane tried to assure her.

Maura wasn't buying it. "Oh? If that so, want to tell me why Miss Vianne is looking at us like she wants to kidnap you this very minute?"

"You know her?" Jane's alto voice rasped in surprise, eyebrows up in emphasis. Then her brow crumpled. "So what if she is?

"You work for her, don't you?" Maura didn't say it as a question.

Somehow though, it was more telling when Jane didn't try to answer.

"It's alright." She whispered quietly, letting her emotions bleed out of her tone. "I've known about Miss Vianne's service for a long time, even though I've never used it. " She smirked, but it faltered.

Her head and heart were too involved in this conversation. If she was going to do what was right, Maura needed to distance herself. She needed to pull back. Become the mistress. The call girl. The whore. 'Queen of the Dead', wasn't that what they called her? The hospital staff were always whispering it behind her back, just because she became attached to the patients who didn't make it. Just because she could sit staring at a corpse on the operating table, or a gurney, for hours marveling at the fact that there wasn't any life left to see and how very little of the person who once inhabited it remained. Just because she never shed a tear for them. Too often, she envied them.

Where was that person now? She needed her. Needed that detachment, that poise. The biting tongue that accompanied it. She needed to get mean. "Your time isn't your own, I understand. Not while you're here with her." Maura nodded at Vianne. "But if I paid for it, we could talk as long as we wanted, is that it?" She let her remark came out sharp and offended. Like she'd really be offended by having someone interesting to talk to for once.

"No!" Jane said, looking stung.

Good. Maybe if it stung, Jane would learn to stay away. "Didn't Vianne tell you who I am?" Maura sneered.

That stopped Jane's spluttered protest immediately. The woman's eyes narrowed at her. "And who exactly is that?"

"I'm not someone you want to mess with. Or talk to. Or look at." Maura lifted her glass in a sardonic little salute and took a large gulp of wine, ignoring the bouquet in favor of alcohol consumption. She drug her fingertips across her lips before continuing. "Anyone that even tries just puts themselves in danger."

"Danger how?"

She'd said too much. It wasn't safe. But Jane needed to know that Vianne's people didn't talk to her for a reason. "You'll be sent away. Like all the others. Like Lola."

Jane sat up straighter, as though she recognized the name. "Lola."

"One of Vianne's." Maura nodded. "She was nice. Too nice. She needed to be more careful, but she wasn't. She only talked_ about_ me and she was still sent to work somewhere else." Draining the last of her glass, she set it down, but shook her head when Paul looked over at her questioningly. Any more and she'd never be able to pull off her '_act'_. Pushing away her glass, she leaned in to whisper to the woman beside her, so no one else would be able to hear. "She ended up dead."

Stillness answered her.

A breath in and out passed before the phone behind the bar rang and Paul lifted it to his ear.

It didn't matter. She was ready. Jane would never speak to her again, even if they did see each other, and that was all for the best.

"Do _you_ know who sent her away? Who got her killed?"

Surprised the other woman hadn't already started running, Maura didn't dare jinx it by meeting those deep brown pools again. Especially since Paul had scribbled something on a piece of paper and hung up the phone already. "Don't you know? You work for him, after all."

"I've never met him." Jane answered quickly. "Neither has Vianne."

Paul put the paper on the counter face down and slid it over to her.

"Pray you don't then, Jane." She said as she took it, watching Paul's eyes as they flicked to her companion before he walked away. "You'll be safer." She breathed and stood to leave.

A hand caught her wrist.

"What if I don't want to be safe?" Jane countered in a hiss, now only a breath away from her face. "What if I want to know who I'm dealing with? What if I _want_ to talk to you?"

"Then you're not as smart as you seem." Maura whispered fiercely in her ear, pulling herself free and brushing past her shoulder, headed for the exit. She didn't dare to look back. She'd stop in her tracks if she did. She'd apologize.

Or worse, keep the conversation going. Long enough for someone to notice. Maybe long enough to get Jane killed. She was off limits for a reason in this place. One phone call would be all it would take. She kept walking because there was no way she could bear another person's blood on her hands.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note- Well, here ya go. Enjoy!

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.

Chapter Ten-

"_That was a reckless move, Rizzoli._" Korask's voice stung Jane's ear like a wasp once Maura's back had disappeared from the hotel bar. He sounded like he was ready to pull her out that very moment. Which he could.

So, Jane remained silent.

"_Get your ass back to Vianne. NOW._"

She grabbed up her still half-full glass of wine from the bar and made her way back to the booth she had escaped from earlier. There was a petulant, dazed feeling in her chest that made it seem as though she was walking through jello. As much trouble as she had probably just generated for herself, she was too preoccupied to care.

Vianne's face was tight as she made room for her again, but she didn't speak. She simply pulled her folder close and stared at it.

The silence was stony.

"Sorry." Jane mumbled toward her lap. She wasn't really, but she didn't want to be on the madame's bad side, anymore than she'd enjoyed the scolding from Korsak.

Frost was quiet too, on the other side of the line.

"We have several more hours to get through. Then everyone will have their assignments, and we may head back to our room." Vianne didn't look up from the folder, but the ice in her voice made it clear she didn't appreciate being ignored. An edge chipped the final syllable out past her teeth in a different manner than mere aggravation. She had been worried.

Jane slumped in her seat a little, looking back over to the bar where no one was sitting any longer. She felt bad for making her team worry, yes, but she most definitely didn't regret ignoring their warnings about speaking to... Maura. A beautiful, almost unusual name, to fit it's owner.

Damn.

She couldn't get the woman out of her head. That dress, that hair... those eyes. Hazel pools trying to hide pain and sadness so deep, she'd felt like she was falling into them. And that tongue! God, the woman was just plain cheeky.

If only the conversation hadn't deteriorated so quickly. Sure, Jane was undercover as one of Vianne girls, but she hadn't really thought Maura or anyone else would be _less_ likely to talk to her because of that. She'd been so close too. It felt like she could taste just how close she had gotten to Mauvais tonight.

One lucky encounter and she was on the fast track to shutting this guy down. All she needed was a chance. She mulled that thought over for the next few hours, looking at the situation from every angle she could think of in an attempt to figure out Maura and her place in this web of interconnecting dots. Her mind was so preoccupied, she barely acknowledged the next to women who sat across from her, not even realizing how much time passed until Vianne turned toward her.

The woman looked tired, in a way that told Jane she'd never admit it. "We're finished now, let's go."

Obediently, Jane slid from the booth, standing on slightly wobbly and aching legs that had almost fallen asleep. She must not have moved much since she'd last sat down. Since her talk with Maura.

Vianne followed after her, standing and readjusting her dress primly. She tucked the folder under her left arm.

Belatedly remembering her own dress, and finally noticing that it had hiked it's way higher up her thighs than she was at all comfortable with, Jane hurriedly pulled the hem down lower toward her knees. She felt exposed and off-kilter still, wondering what Maura had done to her as she followed her older companion who was leading the way.

The two of them walked toward the entrance, but rather than walking out, Vianne stepped up to the bar. She leaned forward like she was going to order a drink, or flirt with the bartender, but instead she took the folder she'd been keeping tabs in from under her arm and handed over to the dark-haired young man.

Jane stared. That was Vianne's contact? The one she reported to? It just had to be the guy that creeped her out when he looked at Maura like he owned her. Great. This assignment just got worse. Slouching, she followed Vianne from the bar, only able to think that if the bartender was Vianne's contact, and the bartender had given Maura that note before she'd gone, then what was his connection to Maura?

Where did Mauvais fit in with all this?

-o-

"I'm telling you, she knew who Mauvais was." Jane insisted.

Korsak just looked at her. "You've got killer instincts, Jane, no one's denying that. But you still shouldn't have got off half-cocked."

"We got useful information, didn't we?" She couldn't understand why they were being so intransigent. Couldn't they see reason? Couldn't they see what a massive well of information Maura might represent?

"You put yourself in more danger than this assignment entailed." Frost said.

"Exactly." Korsak agreed.

"Traitor." Jane murmured at Frost.

He didn't crack a smile, didn't even look like he might be holding one back. That more than anything told Jane he might be serious about this. He _might_ just have a point too.

Might. "Alright, I'm sorry. Okay? But... Maura is a good lead. I know she can tell me something about who we're looking for. I just know it."

"What about her?" Vianne quietly spoke off to the side, joining the conversation for the first time since they'd made it up to the room and the other two had started in. "Did you think about her for even a moment? Anything that she tells you is incriminating_ and _dangerous. It could get her arrested... or worse. She is already up to her neck in somezing and you want to put her in the middle of a situation that she is neither prepared for or understands?"

"She'd have access to the same protection as any of your girls that had talked. The same protection you've got. The DA won't prosecute her for anything if she hands Mauvais to us on a silver platter! Which I think she can do. I think we can do this." Jane looked around at the others, taking in their stubborn and uncertain expressions. "Come on! We knew this was going to be dangerous and complicated when we came in, this isn't that much different than the original plan."

"That's not your decision to make alone though, Jane." Frost said quietly.

She looked back at him, saw the emotion in the tech's brown eyes and sagged. Once again, her actions were running away with her head. She hadn't meant to make her friend feel like she didn't value his input. Maybe it was asking too much, wanting them to accept her gut instinct in a situation that had already cost lives. Her lips let go of a sigh.

"It does bear further investigation." Korsak conceded with a sigh of his own. He didn't meet her hopeful look, but looked at Frost and met the other man's eyes. "Whoever Maura Isles really is, and whatever she's involved in, Mauvais may be connected as well." The large detective glanced over at Vianne sitting on the edge of a chair with her hands thoughtfully folded together. His gaze seemed to bore into the woman as she softened his voice. "We might be able to help her, you know. Have you thought of that?"

"I have no doubt as to your intentions, Vincent." Vianne murmured. "Merely your execution." The last word to come out of her mouth didn't seem casually uttered. It hung in the air, filling everyone in the room with a kind of choking disquiet.

Jane felt like it had punched her in the gut. She had only been thinking about getting to Mauvais, about talking to Maura and maybe making her feel better. What if she had already gotten the remarkable woman in trouble though? What if something bad happened to the doctor in the process of this investigation? She didn't think she could bear that.

Maura seemed too vulnerable, too... hurt. One look was enough to tell she had already been through a lot. Her eyes had seen so much, and her body moved like someone who had given up on escape a long time ago.

But what did that _mean_? What did she do for Mauvais, or whoever she worked with that knew Mauvais, that could have pulled apart her fire so completely? She had once been a fiery person, still was underneath her sorrow, Jane could tell. So... what? Was she some kind of smuggler? An entertainer, a prostitute, an accountant? Any of those things were possibilities. Any of them could lead Maura into a situation she might not feel like she could extricate herself from. Any information she was preivy to could be Mauvais' downfall too. What did Maura have over Mauvais though, if the man had gotten rid of someone just for talking about her? What did she know?

These questions were only a few samples of what was running rampant through Jane's head in the space of a held breath. She felt dizzy and a little sick to her stomach. The whole mess was so convoluted. It was utterly confounding. "Maura knows about Lola. The girl that got killed, Lyla Dovenskki, that was the name she used, right?"

Korsak nodded and Vianne nodded succinctly.

"She thinks it's her fault." Jane stepped closer to the older man, leaning her head close in conference with his so that he could see her eyes and would catch her sincerity and determination. Whatever was going on, she wasn't ready to give up. If Maura was going to be in danger, than she'd just have to find a way to protect her. "You can't tell me that doesn't peak your interest."

He looked at her sharply. "Yes, it does. But if you so much as-"

"I'll behave." She cut in quickly, holding up her hands as though in surrender. "As long as you're willing to take this lead seriously, I wont go off on my own again."

"I would never discount _any_ lead." He growled, but suddenly the his gruff voice sounded a little more amused than upset.

"Alright. _SO_... anybody got a plan?" Frost asked mildly.

Everyone looked at him.

"Well, we have no idea how often Miss Isles comes here. Tomorrow night you'll be in a new hotel, and she'll probably be gone."

"The boy has a point." Vianne spoke to Korsak. "I have never noticed a pattern in her appearances. She comes and goes at will. Perhaps not her own, but someone's will at least."

"Boy?" Frost questioned.

Everyone ignored him.

"I need to talk to her some more." Jane insisted. "I can get to her, I know I can."

"Easy Jane, you'll get another crack at her." Korsak mumbled, scratching at his beard thoughtfully. "Maybe we can get to her at her home? Frost and I can question her."

"She will, how you say, 'clam up'?" Vianne answered. "She is not stupid. She will not speak to ze police if she knows what is good for her. She is still alive, so I assume that she does indeed."

"Hey, guys?" Frost tried to cut in, sounding softly.

"We need a way to question her without alerting Mauvais." Jane piped up over him. "We don't want Maura to become his next 'casualty'."

"Guys." Frost's voice rose.

Korak was already talking at the same time. "Which probably means we'll have to stick to Jane's undercover persona."

"But how? How would we get zem together again?"

"Well if anyone wants to listen to the 'boy', I just picked up Maura on the video feed." Frost said.

Jane suddenly heard what Frost was saying and whirled to face him. "What?"

"She just came out of a room on the seventh floor. Looks kinda worse for wear too." He was staring at his monitors worriedly.

She moved quickly over to the computers and bent down to look at Frost's screens over his shoulder. There, in the second on the right, she caught the black and white image of what had to be Maura, leaning against a wall in a seventh story hall of the hotel.

The woman was shaking. Her shoes were in one hand and the back of her other was pressed over her mouth like she was desperately trying to keep herself from falling apart. She looked like she was sobbing. Her dress was torn at the top, exposing part of her chest and her hair was messy. Not sexy messy, but like she had just been through some kind of struggle.

Without another word, Jane was out of the room before anyone could even think of calling her back.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note- Whoa! I come home from vacation and my inbox has exploded. You guys kinda like it huh? Or is it just that I left you with a cliffhanger? Well, I'm back now and ready to pick this back up, so... :)

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- the usual technical jargon.

Chapter Eleven-

Just breathe.

Maura said this over and over to herself, willing her heart to calm down. There wasn't enough time for her to be stuck in some kind of fog. She clutched the paper that Paul had given to her in her hand, hard to the point where it's edge crumpled inward and covered the number. It didn't matter. She knew the number after only a glance and had already pressed the button for the seventh floor.

As the box traveled upward, she tried to straighten her spine, to regain the sexy seductress buried somewhere inside her. The one she would need for this night, to pull off this dress, these undergarments. She needed to be someone other than her terrified, damaged self.

But instead of the old movies she used to watch with her nanny, the women who'd filled the screens with confidence and sex appeal in their perfect outfits and perfect hair, she ran a hand through her hair and thought of Jane.

Thought of the way the other woman had run her hand through her dark hair at a point in their conversation, smiling with her eyes and her whole body curled in a little. Like she was nervous or happy to stand their talking with a stranger. Like she hadn't faked this a hundred times before. The only thing was, Jane managed to pull off the act of being new to this. She looked the part of a call girl, of one of Vianne's ladies, but no one who'd worked in this business for any amount of time had that much intensity to them. That light in their being like they were a bonfire that couldn't be extinguished. Everyone here learned early to keep a lid on their feelings, to bottle up what they thought.

To fake a smile.

So why had Jane's eyes made Maura shiver? Why had she fallen for that look of sincerity in one sitting, when she should know better? Why did she wish more than anything she'd ever wished for that she wasn't so very good at pushing people out of her life. She'd mastered it with her mother. Any friends she might have had in school for any length of time.

Why did she want so desperately for Jane to stay?

It didn't matter. Jane wasn't going to speak to her again, and that was for the best. Less headaches to deal with, less guilt to shoulder. She could do this, shut this feeling off like she did with all the others.

The elevator's bell sounded so loudly, arriving at her destination, that it startled Maura into removing her fingers from her lips. She hadn't even realized where they'd wandered, and she struggled to bring herself back to task.

Head back, legs liquid. A man was waiting for her, she needed to get her head in the game.

She should have known it wouldn't be that easy. The second she opened the door and saw the way he looked at her, she should have known.

-o-

She felt sick. Like she was going to faint but couldn't manage to figure out which way was the floor. Her shoulder ached where the man had grabbed her, burned were he'd kissed. Somewhere above her shoulders, her head throbbed to the point where she had to close her eyes on her tears or risk throwing up.

God.

Had there ever been such a thing, it had abandoned her at the moment of her birth. There was no God here and crying for one wouldn't help her. Moving helped. That was the thought she held onto, propelled by the certainty that if she just kept moving, the world would right itself again. Clutching at the wall, her fingers curling into it, she pulled herself down the hall she walked down only a few hours before.

Her feet folded as though they'd never known how to walk in the first place.

If she made it out, if she just did that-

A tinny bell dinged.

The elevator.

Situated at the end of the hall, it suddenly arrived at her floor before she'd gotten to the button.

The doors slid open.

Maybe there was a God out there after all. Because Jane was looking back at her.

Jane with her perfect complexion, her dark brown eyes. Her hair that looked like waves cut from black ebony.

"Ebony is a h-hard, heavy, durable w-ood, most highly prized when black, f-from various tropical trees of the genus Diospyros, as D-D-D. ebenum of southern India and Sri Lanka." Maura's head swirled with the information, the thoughts coalescing to stuttered and frantic spoken words falling from her lips without censure. Now she understood the saying of a mouth running away with a person as she attempted to walk forward, propelled by her odd words. Words that would drive away the vision running toward her, like a broken mirage. "D-did you know that i-it's dense enough to sink in w-water?" Her tongue felt fuzzy and heavy as she got out the words. Each step made her legs shake and knees try to buckle.

"No, I didn't." Jane puffed, giving her a small, half-smile. A smirk really, but it was shadowed with concern. For what? For who? "Thanks for the information though, I'll log it away for future use. Maybe it'll pop up in conversation."

Reaching out for the wall again, Maura fought off another wave of dizziness. It was only than that she realized the other woman had moved to her side and was putting an arm around her back in support.

Maura shuddered.

"Sorry, does that hurt?" Jane's voice was pained and higher than normal, her hand leaving so as to hover rather than touch.

It's sudden absence again almost made Maura sob.

"I'm here. It's okay." Words more gentle than her touch had been fell from Jane's lips. Perfect little lies, said with that perfect sincerity no real call girl ever possessed.

They were as food to someone who is starving though. Maura lapped them up like they were the only thing keeping her from dying. But it was too much. She turned her head away to block out the feelings in her chest. "What- what are you... doing here?" Hands took her shoes from her grip. She let them go slowly because dragging her hand back was really too much to ask. It brought her eyes back around to look at Jane's curled lips.

"I work for Vianne, remember? Hotels are kinda my thing." The lines in Jane's face creased. She was lying.

Strange. Why would she lie about that? It set off warning alarms in Maura's head. However, she wasn't really in much shape to pin that sensation down right now. She needed to make it out of here. At least to the elevator and safety.

He might be coming for her.

Whatever Jane's voice made her feel, however safe or comforted, it wasn't real. It didn't mean anything.

Jane's arm suddenly came back to touch her gently and helped get them to the elevator before the doors shut them out.

Pulling away immediately, Maura rushed to the back, grabbing at the bar for support. She buried her head against the side panels, where she could feel the thrum of the machinery in the elevator well. The wall was hard and uncompromising beneath her, but it saved her from losing what little was in her stomach.

The doors closed with another jarring ping and finally they were headed down.

To the safety of the exit.

Maura could feel the way the massive structure's wheels moved them toward the ground and counted. One floor. Two.

"What happened?" Jane spoke quietly, but her voice still seemed too loud for the small space they were confined in.

It filled it up to bursting.

Flinching away from that pressure, that awful question, Maura shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, seems like nothing."

She was being sarcastic.

Even Maura could notice that level of sarcasm. "I'm fine. It's nothing, really." And it was. She'd been through things like this before. It was something she could handle, and she hadn't suffered any permanent damage. It wasn't a lie. She turned to face Jane briefly with a constructed smile, and then closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall when the world spun. Her hands didn't release the bar that was holding her on her feet.

"Your dress is torn." Jane remarked.

"I hate it anyway. Let it be ripped." Maura breathed, taking in great lungfuls of air. Her heart was starting to ache now that it's pounding had slowed somewhat. A delayed reaction probably based on her stress-response being flipped in a moment of temporary danger.

It was her own fault.

She had floundered. In the face of it, his anger, the rush of emotions it created, it was too much for her to handle.

Damn. It was so much easier to have sex with someone when you could pretend to be someone else. Not so much when you were distracted. She should be angry with Jane. The woman hadn't left her head since she'd stormed out of the bar and it had thrown her so far off her game, she'd made mistakes. Mistakes that had made his eyes turn to flints of steel, his hands hard and grasping. Instead of bruises, she'd be lucky if he hadn't dislocated something when he'd thrown her around and drug her into the wall. A wall that had unforgivingly rebounded her head off of its surface. Had made her world explode into stars and cloying, suffocating terror. She had run from him. Thrown a lamp his way and bolted for the door as fast as her wobbly legs and spinning head would let her move, pulling her dress down over her exposed lower half. Only taking the time to grab the lone heel that had come off her foot in the flurry of his advances.

It had been bound to be rough, with the way he'd looked at her when she'd entered the door. She'd been through this enough times to be able to tell now, just from the tilt of the head, or the narrowing of hard eyes. But she had just made it so much worse. So much more damaging than a bit of rough sex.

Now it would surely become some kind of hurricane that would sweep her up and deposit her again like a rag doll. Because people like him didn't tolerate mistakes. People like him made others regret the day they'd met.

There would be repercussions to this night.

What was she going to do?

Her breath was starting to accelerate out of her control. Panic was flooding her system again.

"Hey, it's okay." Jane's voice sounded, pulling her from the brink with it's soothing concern and comforting rasp.

Through her tears as she peeked her eyes open, Maura saw a hand reach for her.

She fended Jane off with one hand frantically, turning her face away as a sob leaked past her teeth.

"Maura."

The voice made the sobs tamp down again.

"I'm here." Jane's fingers finally brushed her hair. "It's going to be okay."

Maura's head throbbed with pain and a tiny cry left her lips as she sunk toward the floor. Her legs simply wouldn't support her for another second

Jane half-caught her and let her slide gently down. Then the other woman knelt next to her. "Shh... baby, it's okay. Please, don't cry. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you. I promise."

The words made Maura want to laugh at the same time that she ached to hear more. "P-Please. Don't promise t-things you can never-" She choked off, turning her head further away and trying to reign in her tears behind the mask her mother had helped her to create.

It wasn't easy. Not with Jane stroking up and down her spine gently, like she was comforting a child or a friend.

They weren't friends.

"Tell me where to take you." Jane suddenly whispered fiercely. "Somewhere safe. I'll make sure that not a single bastard touches you till you're safely there."

Maura looked at her. Through the tears and the grit, the dizzying waves her slight concussion was throbbing through her head, she saw only that same sincerity. Brown depths of concern looking back at her. Against her better judgment, against all rhyme or reason, she nodded.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note- Hey, so the chapter I was working on turned into three. So here's the first part all done up pretty. At least, as pretty as I'm willing to do at one in the morning. Enjoy!

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- the usual technical jargon.

Chapter Twelve-

"Easy." Jane caught Maura for the what seemed like the millionth time that night as the doctor swayed unsteadily. Her hand felt the other woman's trembling, so this time, she didn't let go when Maura was steady on her feet. The doctor had tipped forward because she no longer had the door to support her while it was swinging inward to let them within.

Because of the small trail of blood trickling from her head wound.

Beyond the threshold, the apartment was dark, only faintly illuminated by some kind of night-light near the floor so they could see the shadows of coats hung up against one wall near the entrance. The building they were in was fancy, elegant. Far more so than Jane's own apartment complex. Hell, she probably couldn't afford to live in a supply closet. This thing had a doorman and everything.

At least it was a doorman that didn't ask questions and didn't make the residents turn to face them, or both women would have had some explaining to do.

How they'd made it the whole cab ride and up the elevator without being stopped by someone was a little beyond her right now.

"I told you, Jane, I'm okay." Maura lightly pushed her hand away from around her arm, shrugging her shoulders gently to get her off. She ducked out of range like she was made of liquid mercury, like she was used to slipping away. Pulling Jane's coat off, she hung it up without even looking as she passed the hooks, seemingly out of habit.

Jane followed her with a muffled sigh. Not that she had any room to complain right now. She was just glad she wasn't getting shoved right back out the door. It'd taken everything she could muster to get Maura to let her come up with her, to make sure she got to her apartment okay.

It took all that and more to ignore the static now in her ear, coming from the ear bud. She'd only been able to whisper a few hushed words of assurance and entreaty before climbing in the cab after Maura.

But obviously, the doctor was in some kind of trouble. It was her duty to protect her. She couldn't seem to ignore the feeling that she really was on the right track toward Mauvais with Maura.

This was right. This was where she needed to be.

Korsak was going to _kill_ her, but at least she was right.

Another sigh left her lips as she stepped into the warmth inside Maura's apartment, this one of a different nature. It was such a relief to be comfortable again after the frigid temperature outside, the chill having penetrated her skin-tight dress within a few seconds of leaving the cab. She shivered reflexively as she peeled her scarf off her neck and hung it where her coat was stashed.

A light blossomed in front of her and she moved toward it while she blew hot air over her hands.

Damn it was a cold night.

When she got to what looked like the kitchen, which was huge, Dr. Maura Isles was already pulling a glass out of the cupboard. With her high heels kicked off and her makeup still fuzzy from dashing away tears in the cab, she looked smaller, even more frail than before. She uncorked a bottle of wine and sloppily poured it in, spilling while her hand shook with reaction.

Without thinking, Jane strode to her side and caught the glass on the way to the woman's lips. "No." She spoke over Maura's outraged spluttering. "You need medical attention, pain reliever and an ice pack at least." In emphasis, she shook the glass. "I may not know as much as you seem to, but even I know that head wounds and alcohol don't mix."

There was a momentary standoff, as Maura glared at her angrily and she refused to back down. It left her heart racing inside her chest.

The doctor finally turned away, sulking.

Surreptitiously, Jane smelled the wine and winced a little as she poured it out down the sink and set the glass aside. She hated to waste, but it was best to remove the temptation. Looking around, she clapped her hands on her thighs. "O-kay. Where's your first aid kit?"

Maura cut a baleful look her way. "I can take care of myself, Jane." Her tone sagged, losing it's forcefulness mid sentence as she rubbed at her forehead. It seemed she didn't have the energy to stay so acerbic. "Just leave. Please."

"You're bleeding." Jane said by way of answer, starting to search through all the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen. She was determined. "If you think I'm gonna leave you standing in your kitchen, bleeding all over that pretty red dress of yours, you've got a worse concussion than I thought and we should be getting you an MRI." Finally, in a drawer nearest the hallway, she spotted a small box near the back and pulled it out to find a fully stocked kit. It had fancy stuff in it too, stuff she was sure she didn't know how to use- including a rounded needle she recognized as one used for doing stitches. She almost shuddered to think why Maura would have that in her home med kit. Even for a doctor, that didn't bode well. "Got it." She murmured, holding it up.

"Jane, really, you don't have to-" Maura cut off as Jane took her hand and led her to sit at the small table. She stared at Jane like she wasn't sure whether she had the energy to push her away.

Which was okay with Jane, who took advantage of it. "It's alright, Maura. With two little brothers who are complete idiots, don't know anything about taking care of themselves, and a mother who screams at the sight of blood, I've gotten plenty of practice at this." She smirked as she pulled out an alcohol swab and some butterfly bandages.

"I'm a doctor, Jane, I can do this myself." The doctor took the swab from her and ripped the package open. She was fast, hissing as she applied it to the spot on her hairline where the cut showed up among the dark bruising.

Jane batted at her hands and took the swab back. "Normally, I'd say so, but you'd need a mirror to get it right and I don't know my way around your home silly. Just let me." She gave the doctor a no nonsense look.

Sullenly, Maura stopped arguing and just rolled her eyes. Then, suddenly leaned against the side of the table like she was holding herself steady.

"Whoa, you okay?" Jane touched her arm, just in case the other woman suddenly tipped toward the floor. When Maura only closed her eyes and nodded, she gently took to cleaning the cut on the woman's head, trying to be careful not to hurt Maura any more than she was already.

On closer inspection, the injury wasn't too bad. It looked nasty, especially with the bruising, but the cut itself was shallow. The only thing they needed to worry about was the probable concussion. Tending the broken skin was just a precaution against more blood getting all over the place really.

As the alcohol penetrated, Jane going deeper to get some kind a grit out of the wound, Maura didn't make a sound. She had her eyes closed, completely still as Jane's fingers pressed to get the cut as clean as possible.

That done, Jane tossed the swab aside and pulled apart some of the bandages. "I'm just gonna make sure the edges get together, so it doesn't leave much of a scar." She assured. With steady hands, she peeled the plastic off and got ready to place the bandage. She pulled the skin together as much as she could with one hand, trying to ignore the new well of blood that surfaced at the action.

The other woman hardly flinched. She seemed to have zoned out, making herself absent while all this was happening.

It was kinda freaky.

"Almost." Jane murmured as she dabbed the last bit of blood clean and replaced that with gauze she struggled to tape in place despite the hair in the way. "Okay. Finished." She ducked down to get a good look at the other woman's face and trailed the back of one hand gently against Maura's cheek to get the doctor's attention.

Hazel eyes abruptly jumped to hers, swimming with color and fear and pain. Tears, ones that weren't falling to give her away but were no less evident. "Why are you doing this?" Maura whispered the words, looking for all the world like a lost little child in that moment.

Surprised, Jane sat back. She let her hands fall up on her lap. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You probably have better things to do than babysit me. Aren't you going to get in trouble? Aren't you... busy?" Maura suddenly looked uncomfortable.

Despite herself, Jane chuckled. She could tell where the doctor's mind had gone. "Not too busy for you."

Two tears finally escaped and tracked their way down each of Maura's cheeks as she looked down. Away. "You don't have to." She let out a small, humorless laugh. "It's not like I've given you a reason to be nice to me. Quite the opposite in fact."

"I'm not the sort to hold a grudge Maura. A few harsh words aren't gonna turn me away." She examined the woman in front of her. The stooped shoulders, the pain rolling off her in waves. She tipped her head. "Haven't you ever had someone make time to take care of you, just because they wanted to?"

The way that the doctor turned her head away, swallowing thickly, spoke every answer without using words.

An uncomfortable tension fell over them.

More questions hovered on the edge of Jane's tongue, but she let them slide away. Instead, she huffed a breath and stood. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

No more words of dissent left Maura's mouth, no sounds escaped her. She rose when Jane tugged gently on her arm and let herself be led.

Of course, Jane didn't know where she was going, but she figured one way or the other along the hall would be Maura's room. She went right. The first door she came to was a closet. Two shelves held neatly folded linens, another larger one- big fluffy blankets. The top two seemed to hold shoe boxes and the bottom two were stuffed with books. She closed the door and moved on to the next. This one yielded a bedroom when she switched on the light.

Maura flinched from the sudden light, right into her shoulder as though she'd forgotten who she was with.

"Okay. I got ya." Jane murmured, pulling the woman into her side a little harder to make sure she didn't lose her balance again, and entered the large bedroom.

It was sparse inside, but well laid out. Almost like a decorator had done it. Which honestly would surprise her. The walls were a pale off brown, the duvet darker to blend with it. A dark blue chair and matching footrest sat aside in one corner and the other was dominated by a huge window that showed the shadowed night outside.

When she moved closer and pulled the blanket back on the bed, dark blue satin sheets contrasted with the brown, matching the chair.

She guided Maura to sit there.

"Do- Do you want to take a shower, or-" Jane didn't know what to do now that she had Maura home and tended to. She felt a little lost in this huge place.

The doctor just shook her head wearily at the question. She seemed to be trying to move with a horrible weight on her shoulders. Her head swayed from side to side like she was looking for something, and then she shook her head again and twisted to get her arms under her to push up on her feet. Half-stumbling, she got to another door beside the one they'd entered and went inside, closing the door quickly behind her. The sounds of her vomiting reached beyond the solid surface.

Jane stood at a loss. She wasn't sure if she should slip out, cut her loses and wait for Maura to try contacting her again, or not. To knock. Go inside? Leave?

Eventually though, her stubbornness won out. She went back to the kitchen and opened up the freezer, thankfully finding a clothe ice pack in the door. When she returned to the bedroom and Maura still wasn't out of the bathroom, she sat on the edge of the bed the other woman had just vacated. It was all she could think to do.

She sat for a long while, waiting. Fiddling with the pack and alternately staring at the closed door. Unsure the longer they were separated, if she should go or stay, and becoming antsy because of it.

Finally, the door opened again and there was Maura.

No longer in her torn red dress. Make-up gone, and wearing only dark underclothes that contrasted with her pale flesh. She had bruises on her arms, her shoulder and side that stood out starkly, but the way she moved was like she didn't even notice them. As though they didn't even hurt.

And God, it was so much skin.

Watching her come closer, Jane swallowed hard, a part of her panicking. But when she made to move, to get out of the way, she was stopped.

Maura caught her shoulders. Pressed into them to keep her seated. She slowly stepped into Jane's personal space and then straddled the woman's legs, climbing onto her knees on the bed to encapsulate Jane's hips.

"Maura? What-" Jane tried to ask, her heart thumping hard, feeling shaky. She stared upward, feeling lost and entranced all at once.

The doctor just bent her head down and let their lips meet.

She tasted like mint.

Jane was too surprised to back up or crawl away. Too shocked to move. She held still as Maura pressed soft lips harder into hers. Put a hand on her chest. Then, slowly, she gently took the woman's elbows and pulled her away.

Maura was breathing hard- panting- expression wanting and glazed. She didn't even seem aware of what she was doing, not in a conscious sense. Like she was gone.

"Y-you don't have to." Jane spoke as softly as she could. Just as gently as she was handling the doctor. "You don't have to do that, Maura." She tried to convey with her voice that this wasn't a rejection of Maura, just a flag on the play. Tried to let the doctor know that she wasn't some John, who would do a favor only for another favor. She didn't need to be paid, and she definitely didn't want Maura thinking she had to sleep with her for caring for her. No matter what that kiss made her feel, she wasn't like that.

Looking up into to meet her eyes for the first time since coming out of the bathroom, Maura's dark hazel orbs suddenly shimmered. She closed her eyes and started to sob.

Careful not to hurt her, Jane put her arms around the woman's middle and held her close. Let her dress get bathed in wet tears as Maura sunk into her chest.

The woman huddled there like it was the only safety in a dark, treacherous world.

She did her best to provide that.

-o-

God, she was pretty.

Even laying asleep in bed, face a wash of tear markings, ice pack resting on her head- Maura was still gorgeous.

Jane was doing her best not to stare as she tucked the exhausted woman into bed, but she often found her mind wandering, which just took her gaze back to the woman that occupied those thoughts.

She shook her head disconsolately, pulling her arms close around herself protectively as she leaned against the wall near the window.

Damn, she was in trouble.

Deep, mire-like trouble.

There was only one thing to do, when she was in this deep.

Taking one last glance to see that Maura was still sleeping comfortably, Jane stepped out of the room to make some calls.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note- Two. :)

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- the usual technical jargon.

Chapter Thirteen-

"No, I know sir." Jane winced at the yell against her eardrum. "Yes, sir, just as soon as I can. I promise." She hung up and rubbed at her gritty eyes.

It was morning and a hellish one at that.

She'd wandered last night from the quiet of Maura's bedroom, finding herself in the living room on the other side of the hallway next to the kitchen. It was a cozy space that felt slightly abandoned, with bookshelves lining every inch of wall and soft carpeting unlike the rest of the apartment. There was a red chair in the corner that was all edges and looked distinctly uncomfortable, but she avoided it and stuck with the couch that had a carved wooden seam across the top. Last night she'd used the room to get some privacy while she called Korsak and all morning she'd been there since the sun rose, talking to Cavanaugh. She was doing her best to clean up the mess she'd made the night before. Trying to stem the chaos created by abandoning everyone and everything to get the doctor home.

It wasn't going well. She rung up Frost next. Without much of a hide left to strip, she was hoping her partner would go a little easier on her.

"Frost."

"Hey." She sighed, leaning back into a pillow on the couch. Swinging her arm up over her eyes, she tried to block out the bright sunlight coming in through the windows. "It's me."

"Yeah, 'me', long time- no contact." Frost sounded amused.

His voice made her shoulders unhitch without even trying. "You're not mad?" Jane asked hopefully.

"Oh no, I'm pissed." He spoke offhandedly. "But Maura did need help, even I could see that, and I've never seen you get that worked up about a possible CI. So I'm bottling it up and gonna take it out on you later. Be ready for payback,_ partner_."

Jane laughed. "You're a dick." She got quiet. "Thanks, _partner_."

"Maura better be worth it."

The way Frost said it, Jane had the impression he was talking about more than a potential break in the case. So, she answered it that way. "She is."

"Okay." He sighed. "Then I'll try to smooth things out with Korsak. You're gonna have a hell of a time, but I got you're back."

"I owe you." Jane told him honestly, her exhaustion leaking into her voice.

"You have no idea." He answered jovially.

They hung up.

Well, that went better than expected. Drained already, Jane leaned her head back fully, rolling it awkwardly to try and get rid of the kinks. She'd managed to snatch an hour or two of sleep in the chair in Maura's room, but it hadn't done much except make her feel stiff and sore.

Her phone rang.

Without moving her head, she brought the phone up to her ear. "Rizzoli."

"Jane!"

She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. She sat up. "Ma, what? What is it?"

"Why don't you answer you're phone when I call you? I've been trying all night, you had me worried sick."

"Ma, I told you, I can't have the phone on while I'm working." Jane sighed.

Her mother scoffed. "Undercover, out on the streets, and they won't even let me talk to my baby girl."

"Not a baby anymore." Jane growled, standing up to her feet.

But her mother didn't seem to hear.

"Like I don't have enough to worry about with Tommy-"

At that, Jane cut her off. "Whoa, what about Tommy?"

"Gone. Again. I just don't understand that boy." Angela trailed off into muttering.

"He's an adult, Ma, not a boy. You checked the usual places?"

"He's just going through so much right now and that horrible place."

"'That place' was juvie and it's supposed to be horrible. He's an adult now, he's gotta start acting like it. I can't go around looking for him every time he decides to get himself in trouble with Paddy's gang."

"Jane-"

"No. Okay? I-I'm working, Ma! What am I gonna do, go chasing after him?" She blew air out in a huff. "What about Frankie?"

"He's been out all night."

"Dammit, Ma!" Jane growled in frustration. "I don't have time for this crap."

"Jane Clementine-"

Jane heard a noise coming down the hall. Her heart skipped a beat. "I gotta go."

"But-"

"I'll talk to you later." She hung up, switching the phone off before stilling completely to listen. The apartment was silent, as it had been all night, but she knew she'd heard something break it besides her conversation. Besides, she hadn't been exactly quiet a moment ago. Talking to her mother tended to bring out the loudest, most sarcastic parts of herself. Going down the hall, she paused in front of the bedroom door.

Maybe she shouldn't. Hesitation and anxiety gnawed at her. Everything that she had seen last night, everything that was swimming around in her head. What if Maura was angry with her for sticking around? What if she threw her out without another word of conversation about Mauvais? What if she pushed Jane away? What if just talking to Jane was enough to ensure she still got herself hurt?

What if the last one scared Jane the most?

No.

There was no way that she was chickening out now, there was too much at stake. She shook herself. Time to grow up. If she wanted to be in homicide, she needed to show that she could handle this kind of stuff. Not just undercover work, but the whole ball of wax. No matter what else, she needed to protect Maura and get her the hell out of whatever she was caught up in as soon as possible. Before she got herself, or anyone else, killed. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, she opened the door and stepped into the room.

Maura had already levered herself up from a prone position, one hand on her head as though it pained her. Which it probably did. Her eyes were slightly sunken looking with shadows and a bruise along her left cheek bone. The caramel waves of her hair were still mussed. She was squinting against the light from the door, wetting her lips with a slow swipe of her tongue like she had a bad taste in her mouth.

Nothing Jane could tell herself would change the way her heart crawled up into her throat and seemed to sit there, happily thrumming away in the place of air. "Hey you." She croaked out, unable to help a smile as she sat on the edge of the bed. Gosh, this woman was adorable when she was sleepy.

"What-" Maura cleared her throat. "What are you- doing here?"

"You remember what happened last night?" Jane asked, handing over the glass of water and the pills she'd set on the nightstand in preparation sometime the previous night.

Slowly, like it was coming back to her, Maura nodded. She meekly took the pills and downed them without question or comment.

Something Jane took as a good sign. "Remember coming here? Climbing in bed?"

The doctors eyes closed in horror. "I kissed you."

"Did a bit more than that." Jane answered her, amused.

Maura put her hands over her face and took a deep, if shaky breath. Then another. Finally, she peeked from between her fingers. "I'm sor-"

"Don't apologize." Cutting the woman off seemed the best option. "I get that your head wasn't exactly in the best place last night. We're good."

Silence greeted her, with Maura staring down at the duvet beneath her fingers like she could burn a hole through it if she concentrated hard enough. "That doesn't explain why you're still here." She murmured, peeking up at her through her lashes.

Jane shrugged. "What can I say? You're acerbic temper and wild mood swings are growing on me." She grinned cheekily to show she was just teasing.

To her surprise, the woman gave a saucy little glare back. "You're one to talk. I heard you on the phone just a moment ago. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

Fear, white hot and pounding, surged through Jane's veins, but she kept a lid on it. Standing from her place on the edge of the bed, she put her hands on her hips. "_Honestly_, Dr. Maura. Listening in on people private conversations."

Maura turned a lovely shade of pink, eyes going wide as she looked down again. "I-I didn't actually hear anything!" She stammered.

Stammering Maura was even cuter than sleepy Maura.

"It was all muffled, I only gathered you were talking to your mother. Your tone could light water on fire is all."

"Mmm-hmmm." Relief, just as consuming, melted Jane's anxiety just like that. "Well, your eyes could do a passable job too right now. You can stop staring down at that blanket and look at me, you know."

Opening her mouth to respond, the doctor was forestalled by a loud bang, like a door hitting a wall. The sound echoed, hollow and shaky on the morning air.

"Maura!"

It was a man.

The smaller woman was out of bed, grabbed a robe off the bathroom door, and was running to the other faster than Jane took to blink in shock. She opened the bedroom portal just slightly and just as quickly shut it again. Her forehead fell against the wood, her whole body sagging into it. "No." Caramel rivulets shook as Maura panted against the doorjamb. "Not now."

"Who is it?" Not liking the way Maura was suddenly acting so petrified, Jane moved to put a hand on her back.

Suddenly, the doctor turned on her. "You have- have to get out!" She said in a fierce whisper, her panic catching at her voice.

"Maura, the hell is going-" Jane was cut off by a hand falling against her lips and the slight pressure as the other woman grabbed her and held them together, close enough to feel everything.

"Shh!" Maura was shaking hard. Voice, hands, hips where Jane could get a grip on her. All of her.

Now freaked way the hell out of dodge, Jane obeyed, but raised her eyebrows in unspoken question.

"You can't be here!" Maura wailed softly, face dipping so close to Jane's clavicle that she could feel the other woman's breath splay against her shoulder. "I told you! I told you that you have to stay away! _No one_ can know you're here."

"Maura!" The male voice called again, higher and gruffer. He sounded worried and angry all at once, and he was getting closer, footsteps coming down the hall.

Maura's head snapped toward the door and then back. Her mouth opened in panic. "Hide!"

"What?" Jane's voice was muffled by the hand over her mouth.

Maura seemed completely frantic now. She looked over Jane's shoulder, her eye catching on something, and she lowered her hand to grab both of Jane's arms. "In the closet!"

"What?!" Jane protested, in a voice barely contained to a whisper, but found herself already being pushed backward inside the woman's large closet. "But-"

"And stay silent- or we're both dead!" The woman urged, completely serious, just before she pulled the doors shut.

Just as a rapping sound played against the bedroom door.

It reverberated through the wall against Jane's fingertips, where she was holding herself up and trying to catch her breath as quietly as possible. She shifted among the hangers poking her in the back, getting closer to the corner where she'd feel a little more protected than she felt by a shaky wooden shutter.

The door in the room beyond was opened without waiting for an answer. So it was someone Maura knew, well enough to feel he had the right to barge into someone elses bedroom.

"Maura?! What the hell is going on?" The man asked, sounding slightly relieved now that he could no doubt see Maura standing in front of him. "Why didn't you answer?" The door opened more, squeaking a little on it's hinges. He sucked in a great lungful of air.

"I was... sleeping." Maura's voice responded. "Had a hard time waking up." The tone suddenly sounded weak. Strangled.

"You're hurt." Footsteps trembled the floor beneath Jane's footpads, and she had to clench her teeth and breathe through her nose slowly to keep herself from making some kind of sound, with her heart beating in rhythm against her ribs like it might pop out and say hi any second now.

"I'm okay. It's just a-" Maura cut off.

There was no mistaking the gentleness of the unfamiliar voice now. "He really went too far. He hurt you."

"I fowled it up. I'm sorry."

A sigh. "Oh Maura. What have you done?"

Maura suddenly sounded on the edge of tears. "I'm sorry." A rustle like she was shaking her head. "Father please, I'm so sorry."


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note- I don't know the name of Maura's adoptive father. I don't think anyone does for sure. So... since he cannot go nameless, I guessed using a common male name from 1964. Round about the time that he might have been born based on the age of the actress that plays Maura's mother in the show. Whatever. :)

Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- the usual technical jargon.

Chapter Fourteen-

Gregory Isles.

He was an imposing man. Tall and regal looking, with narrow glasses for his striking eyes perched on a sharp nose, he might be downright intimidating if it weren't also for his balding head, slight paunch, and the elbow patches on his suit jacket that bespoke his bookish side.

To Maura, he was that and so much more. He was her father.

Sort of.

She stood as still as possible near the foot of her bed, facing him directly and trying to hold back tears as he slowly approached her. It seemed to be an instinct she couldn't control to shy slightly away from him. His hands frightened her. Her heart was hammering against her fragile sternum as though it wanted to flee the area as much as she did.

Gently, with a feather-light touch, her father tilted her chin to examine her more clearly. "Forceful impact with something hard." He surmised. "Concussion."

She nodded, though she was already feeling dizzy. There was no way she could speak aloud right now, she'd already used the last of her gumption to convey her apologies. Every fiber of her being was screaming in protest now, struggling desperately not to obey the _need_ to look at the doors of the closet. The white shutters blocked any view of the woman she knew hid inside.

Jane. That exasperating, endearing, complex, confusing woman! What in the world was she still doing here? _Why _was she here?

Wasn't it enough of an embarrassment for Maura to have sobbed herself to sleep against the shoulder of a complete stranger?

It made no sense. The woman couldn't have been... worried, right? People didn't worry about someone they just met.

People especially didn't bother to worry about Maura.

"I was notified last night and spent several hours bridging fences and making promises, but I couldn't step out to come see you. We're just damned lucky none of it woke your mother."

"She doesn't know you're here, does she?" Maura asked. Her heart, already beating too fast and furiously, seemed to drop into her stomach. She suddenly felt sick and her legs gave out beneath her, so she sat at the foot of her own bed and couldn't stop herself from glancing at the closet.

What was she going to do?

"Of course not, Maura. Don't be daft." He sighed heavily and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. One of his hands settled on her bare leg, giving it a soft squeeze of what he probably assumed was reassurance.

Maura crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling self conscious because of her undressed state. The slit of her robes two sides leaving so much of her flesh bare for touching was like a douse of cold water, reminding her that she wasn't wearing much of anything. Not even makeup.

With her armor gone, she might as well be naked.

"Alright." Her father breathed, letting his head fall back before rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "We're on damage control then. I'll have to make a few more calls. Make sure it's taken care of properly. I'm sure he can be... appeased. Maybe he can be persuaded to be reasonable. We've got ourselves covered- he's got just as much to lose if he tries to make too much of a fuss. Still, he will be angry, we'll have to get him something special to sooth his ruffled feathers."

Ruffled feathers. Like a stuffed bird, full of himself and selfish.

How apropos, Maura thought acidically.

Inside though, she suddenly felt smaller. She'd woken up this morning feeling so safe, the tenderness of Jane's touch and understanding following her through her sleep. Rousing to the sound of Jane's voice, even if it had been high with agitation, was like waking up from a dream straight into another. For a while, she'd had to fight hard not to stare at Jane like she was some kind of phantom. The well of confidence that the following interaction had given her seemed to vanish just as quickly as it'd grown now. "He assaulted me." She whispered, voice trembling with anger. Or perhaps fear, she wasn't entirely sure. She looked at her father in the eye, wanting to scream but controlling herself the way her mother had always taught her. "He almost cracked my skull... and you're worried about _him_?"

Her father looked surprised at her. "Well- I mean, obviously you're alright. You're not in the hospital, are you? We need to concentrate on what's important right now, honey."

"He won't do anything." She scoffed, turning her face away so the pain that shot through her chest where her heart _should_ have been, wouldn't be evident on her features. There were some things even she couldn't hide. "He wouldn't dare say a word." She thought about it and decided in that second as she looked at the white closet doors to take a leap. "I'll go to the police myself and file a report if he does."

A small, indecipherable sound came from the closet.

It made Maura actually jump. Luckily it was too quiet to be immediately decipherable to her father and she managed to turn it into an abrupt rise to her feet, pulling away from her father's touch in a very practiced, discreet way.

He didn't seem to have noticed either thing.

She stepped in front of the door as she brushed her hair behind her ear awkwardly. She was no good at this 'keeping secrets' thing. It was one of the main reasons she'd left her position at the hospital. Lying made her feel faint and gave her hives. Usually she could subvert this by telling part of the truth, rather than the whole of it. It was amazing what you could mask without speaking a real lie.

After all, Maura was just another form of Mary, really, which was why she could use it to effect.

She looked up finally.

Her father was looking at her like she'd sprouted a second head and started speaking Italian.

The weight of what she'd said aloud suddenly came back to her and she flushed hotly, stubbornly clenching her jaw against the automatic desire to take the words back before it was too late. It was already too late for her.

He, in turn, had blanched. "Do... Do you have any idea how powerful that man is?" He stood. "What he could do to us?"

"To _you_, you mean." Maura moved to her bedroom door to get away from the feeling she was drowning. As a way to protect herself from this confrontation.

She didn't_ do_ confrontation.

Her father caught her wrist in a vice-like grip that burned with the bruises beneath it. "To _us._ To _all _of us. To your mother?"

She let herself be stopped, breath coming fast, making her tremble harder.

Gregory Isles stepped closer to her, voice lowered to an intense whisper. "You know what would happen if this got out. You know who else it would hurt." He gripped her harder, hard enough that she struggled not to yelp. "You know who is watching."

That snapped her back from the edge. Her head reclaimed it's good sense, shook off the deviant thread she'd spoken and returned to the acidic acceptance that had kept her alive this long. Turning her eyes up to her fathers, she glared at him, roughly pulling her hand free. "I understand." She embraced herself, curling her hands around her upper arms. Anything to hold herself together. "I've always understood."

"He'd kill us." He whispered.

"I know that." Maura hissed back. Then, she suddenly remembered Jane, hiding away in the closet. Her eyes shot to the doors and resolutely back as she took back control over her eroding emotions. She just desperately hoped Jane hadn't heard them while they were whispering, though with her luck of late, the woman was probably listening to every word.

Her head hurt too much for this.

"We can't let that happen, Maura. We can't let this destroy everything we've done- we have to protect your mother."

Fighting back the bite of oncoming tears, Maura closed her eyes against them and nodded.

"I'll take care of everything." Her father said more gently. His breath was calming down with hers. "You rest today, stay inside." He took her face in his hands. "I'll let you know the verdict by tonight?"

Another nod seemed to be the only way satisfy him.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, before quickly pulling away and leaving.

He didn't seem to notice her flinch at the contact.

By the time the front door slammed, she was taking deeper breaths, calming herself down even more. An utter stillness and silence seemed to follow his exit, pulling a veil over the world like she was separated from it.

Like they both were.

Jane's head peeked out of the closet, looking around at her before giving a strange twist of her lips that might have been an attempt at sympathy. She stepped out.

Maura took a shakily deep breath. "Sorry." She gestured behind her at the door with one hand, the other still crossed over her front as a way of defending her sensitive, recovering inner self. "About that."

"No. It's okay." The dark brunette hurried to reply, hands out in the expressive way she seemed to always be moving. She paused for a second and chuckled sheepishly. "I get not wanting to be caught with a whore in your bedroom."

It hurt, for some reason, to hear Jane call herself that. Maura didn't like it. "No more of a whore than I'm turning out to be." She smiled. A weight seemed to have left her shoulders, saying that out loud.

Jane swallowed, looking awkward as she shuffled adorably. "You're not like that, Maura." She said in a quiet voice.

"I am." Maura insisted, warming to the idea of being honest with someone. If not Jane, who had held her last night while she vented and who was now looking at her without a trace of judgment, than who? It's not like she was close to many people. Her mother was out of the question and Susie Chang would never understand. "I have sex with men in exchange for something I cannot get any other way. Not for money, but still, it's applicable." Her hands fled into her hair, tugging the unwashed strands back in a way that she hoped would clear her head.

She must be losing her mind.

"For what then?" Jane asked curiously.

"Hmm. Let's just say, it's a matter of survival." Maura answered evasively. To steer Jane away from the dangerous question, she quickly changed the subject. "About last night..."

Already waving her off, Jane tried to break in. "Maur, I told you-"

"Thank you." Maura got out, loudly, before she lost the battle.

Nonplussed, Jane blinked at her. "Uh, you're welcome."

Maura nodded. "I... I didn't get a chance- before." Why did she always feel like such a fool when she opened her mouth? Looking skyward in exasperation at herself, she pressed her lips together hard to stop the flood of nervous words trying to escape her mouth.

"That's okay." Jane seemed to be feeling just as awkward as she was. "I'm glad I was able to help. Any way that I could. Any time. I wanted to help you. I mean, I _do_."

Maura smiled- she actually smiled for what felt like the first time in years, just because she wanted to, because there was no other thing she could do about the fluttering in her chest. Barely quelling the giggle rising in her throat, an honest-to-goodness giggle, she leaned to one side, popping out a hip so she could lean back and get a full view of the other woman.

Jane was so... charming.

It made Maura feel lit up from the inside out.

"I'll, uh, get out of your hair then." Jane grabbed the door handle and opened it.

Just as Maura's stomach was swooping low in reaction, the light within her dimming down from radiant to subtle, the brunette abruptly turned back.

"I was hoping though, that I'd get the chance to see you again." Jane looked so hopeful. So desperate.

The inner strength that the woman seemed to bring out in Maura was coming back, even when her shy heart wanted to quail. Her head was screaming at her to say no, to not be selfish, but she found herself nodding. "Where?" She blurted out.

"I'll be at the Canterbury Hotel tonight. We could sit, have a drink, talk, whatever?"

"Tonight? Don't you have to... you know, work?" Maura blushed asking.

"I've always got time for you, Maura." Jane's smile could have melted a iceberg.

The 'Queen of the Dead' probably never stood a chance.


End file.
